


Love.Exe

by Phylix



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Character Study, FYI, Hammond is kind of gross, Hammond is really gross with Wreckingball, Humorous, Idiots in Love, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Not dirty talk but like educational sex talks, Sex Talk, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-16 10:21:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 50,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21506296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phylix/pseuds/Phylix
Summary: Genji thinks he may be in love with Zenyatta. After the omnic is called away to be a speaker at a peace conference with Genji left behind, he begins an introspective journey to decide if his feelings are real, or if they were the byproduct of codependence.  Along the way, his teammates try and help him sort out his feelings in the worst ways possible. Are his feelings enough to sustain them, or are they just not compatible.Honestly, why does everyone insist on teaching Genji about the bird and the bees?
Relationships: Genji Shimada/Tekhartha Zenyatta
Comments: 30
Kudos: 120
Collections: Genyatta Big Bang 2019





	1. Absence makes the heart grow fonder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CaptainNeedsNoSleep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainNeedsNoSleep/gifts).



Genji sat, listening to the rhythmic crashing echoes of the sea against the rock. It was almost otherworldly, the way the water would surge before regressing back, leaving the sounds of the sea to reverberate around him in this small enclave. The rhythmic, pounding of the waves churned and rolled, drowning out any other noises that dared seep into Genji’s addled mind.

Not that Genji felt especially addled. Not any more than usual. 

He leaned against the metal railing that prevented him from falling into the churning black water below him. His legs casually swung back and forth, heels knocking against the metal plating of the dock like he did when he was a child. The metal clangs were swallowed whole by the sound of the crashing sea.

One day more, his mind reminded him. Only a few more hours and his master and he would be reunited here at the Overwatch base. Lena had been deployed early the previous day with a small cargo of supplies on her way to Nepal--To his master-- with the sole purpose of recruiting the monk into Overwatch’s services.

Zenyatta would say yes to the offer. They conversed about the event at length, both in private and with the team. Finally, the stars aligned and it felt right to have a member of the Shambali with them.

The past six months apart from his master were difficult. Genji knew walking back into Overwatch would be a test of his resolve. For the past five years, he had been secluded on a mountain top. Now he was thrust back into modernity and all the temptation that held him before. Worse than that, Genji made the decision to tear open the old wound that was his brother and invite the assassin back into his life.

Truth be told, he had anticipated Hanzo gutting him through with a sword that spring evening, and he was pleasantly surprised when he had gained the upper hand in that battle. Hanzo’s biggest failing was always his hubris, followed by his quick temper. Genji had quickly invoked both on that night in Hanamura and, for what felt like the first time, he had beaten Hanzo back.

Only, the victory felt hollow. Hanzo was like a cicada shell, hollow, empty, and cold. The man that knelt before him was not the same arrogant heir to the Shimada clan. Genji saw him for what he was; a broken man. 

A reflection of himself from before.

Genji hadn’t realized it until that moment, just how empty a man’s eyes could look. He saw a man before him that had stopped living all together and was now stepping through the motions. It broke his heart to see Hanzo that way. It broke his heart, even more, when he realized at that moment, he could not remember a time before those broken, vacant eyes. At that moment, his course of action changed. Genji walked into the fight prepared to face his abuser and attacker. He left Hanamura with clarity.

Hanzo was left with an open invitation to join Genji in Gibraltar. 

He had left the same invitation to Zenyatta, to come and join him with rebuilding Overwatch into the powerhouse of good they both knew it could become once again, but the other Shambali disagreed. 

Overwatch was too new, too fresh still. The reputation of the old guard still clung to the name like a foul stench and lingered on every name that came in contact with it. Overwatch was a name seeped in death and corruption, something the Shambali felt would tarnish their reputation.

Zenyatta agreed. 

To the public, Overwatch was still nothing more than another terrorist group in a long line of terrorist groups that had arisen over the past half-decade. Genji could hardly blame the public for feeling that way still. Genji hadn’t been around for the final, brutal days of Overwatch, but he witnessed the crumbling of structure through the news. It was one violent act after another; LaCroix’s murder by his brainwashed wife, Amari gunned down in a sniper duel, the allegations of misconduct against Reinhardt that collapsed the man’s entire career, Morrison and Reyes killing each other while the headquarters burned around them. Every last high ranking Overwatch member suddenly was seeped to the eyeballs in controversy and deceit that it no longer looked as if Overwatch had ever been a force for good in the world.

But they were looking to change that, slowly but surely. Winston had taken the lead with Lena Oxton by his side. They were two of the only members that walked out of Overwatch smelling like roses. Genji reasoned it was because there was not an untrustworthy bone in either of their bodies. Then Angela came back as well, complete with her long list of medical discoveries. Dr. Zhou followed from Antarctica with her own brand of environmental science. Together, the three scientists (and Lena) worked endlessly to put Overwatch back into a positive light through their progressive sciences. 

Humanitarian efforts to help heal the sick, feed the hungry, and protect the innocent seemed to be enough to get governments to give the newly formed Overwatch a cautious glance. Phase two was to reclaim the heroes of old. The old guard of Reinhardt and Torbjorn returned (with a man that was obviously Jack Morrison, but no one had the heart to tell the old man they all knew his secret).

The old guard was followed by what Genji came to call the “second generation” of Brigitte and Fareeha. Both women were strong forces of good in their own right, already with established reputations. Fareeha came with a package in tow, an equally not-deceased Ana Amari, sans one eye and still as full of wit as wisdom as before.

After that, Overwatch’s reputation as a force of good came back full swing. It was as if the world anticipated someone showing up and taking up the mantle of ‘hero’ once again. 

The world’s attention was on Overwatch, and more heroes- young heroes stepped forward. Aleksandra Zaryanova of Russia and Hana Song of South Korea both came to represent their respective countries. Orisa, the OR15 guardian of Numbani, was also elected as a representative of Overwatch for the city. 

Lúcio Correia dos Santos, Jean-Baptiste Augustin, and Satya Vaswani were the last three to join. Each of them dissevering from other organizations or governments to join with Overwatch’s cause. 

Genji’s head spun with each new addition. For literal weeks, it felt as if there was another new face in the common rooms. Another new name to learn, each one of the agents skilled and resourceful, bringing with them another wave of clout that only strengthened Overwatch’s name. 

Still, Genji felt an absence. At the end of the day, when the work was completed, he was left to think. His mind would wander back. Back to Shimada castle and sneaking out with his brother to catch fireflies in the moonlight. Back to Blackwatch and sharing a warm beer hidden away in McCree’s bunk. Back to the nights when he would sit and meditate with his master, clearing his mind and cleansing his soul. He felt the nostalgic want to bunker down in the stone building with tacked down shutters to keep out the biting mountain wind that seemed to manifest sharper at night where the only source of light were those beeswax candles. They glowed like magic and twinkled off the reflective chrome of Zenyatta’s frame, warm and yellow. Like his master.

He yearned for all three men. To have their presence nearer to him. To laugh and joke with them. To speak in hushed, whispered tones and broad smiles. To contemplate his position in the world. 

He ached.

Out of the blue, McCree had then appeared with Hanzo in tow with no explanation as to why. Both men just apparating to Gibraltar and acting as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “Just picked this one up on my way here,” McCree had chortled as he motioned over to Hanzo as if they had been friends for years. Hanzo looked as nonplussed as usual, which relieved Genji more than he cared to admit.

He had wanted to run over and hug them both tightly. But he hadn’t. A firm handshake to McCree and a nod of his head to his brother was the only greeting Genji could muster at the time.

Inside, he felt his heart mend a little. The knowledge that two of the people he cared about most were here--were home-- was enough for him at that moment.

Still, he ached.

Even now, seated here about the sea of Gibraltar, knowing that in only a few hours, his master would be returned to him, he ached. 

Only a few, short hours more.

________

Lena was vibrating with excitement. Quite literally. Her Chrono Accelerator did well in the heat of battle when she was centered and focused on the task at hand. It never performed right when she let her emotions carry her away.

“Mum always told me, ‘Lena, you wear your emotions on your sleeves,’” Lena laughed nervously and thrummed her fingers against the console of the Orca. Her mission was simple enough. Pick up the Shambali monk and bring him back to base. This was Genji’s often spoke of Master, an omnic who had touched the Iris and was now traveling to teach the value of harmony and serenity. 

Master Mondatta was a real idol in Lena’s eyes. His message was so straight-forward, and the earnestness with which he spoke gave hope to the masses. She still considered it one of her most significant failings when she was unable to stop his assassination. The world had mourned, and she along with it.

But the Shambali monks had rallied at their master’s passing. They called for peace, harmony, and civility in this time of crisis. “The actions of one should not dissuade any of us from Mondatta’s teaching or the warmth of the Iris.” Soon after, new grounds had been broken. Omnic and human bonds grew in strength, “as Mondatta would have wanted.”

It made her think of Genji, straddling the line between humanity and technology. He had never found his place in Overwatch. To them, he was a tool for destruction. Overwatch had built him and programmed him. Blackwatch had utilized his strengths and cared not for his well-being. When Genji had left, Lena hoped he would be able to find his place in the universe.

Genji had boarded her plane for what she thought was the last time, with only a knapsack over his shoulder and determination in his eyes. He wanted to go to central Africa and wander the continent. He wanted to see if the rumors of magnificent cities where human and omnic not only lived together but thrived were true. 

Genji must have been thinking about the Shambali as well when he ventured out. He had come back to Overwatch, a changed man, Lena could see the serenity in his movements now. There was a warmth in his eyes that reflected something profound had happened to him. 

Genji returned to Overwatch, a changed man. He dropped the bombshell on Lena that left her reeling. He had joined the Shambali was a bonafide monk. He had sought enlightenment and, while he had not achieved it yet, the Iris had given him purpose and gave him a guiding light.

And his master wished to join Overwatch. 

Lena was tasked with flying to Nepal. She was to be the ambassador for Overwatch and cater to the monk’s every need while she transported him back to base. Genji assured her that Master Zenyatta was not a diva in any way. He was kind and compassionate, and most likely going to spend the transport time meditating or reading. She did not have to go out of her way to please him, as Master Zenyatta preferred the simple life.

With a title like “Master Zenyatta,” Lena expected something wholly different than the omnic that met her at the small tarmac. In her mind, she pictured a dignitary, clad in pristine robes of the finest materials. He would be waiting in the winds, humble and stoic as she touched down, giving her barely a greeting as, in her mind, he had taken a vow of silence for reflection before arriving at Overwatch.

Instead, Lena found Master Zenyatta at the only building besides the hanger at the small airport: the local bar. The omnic was surrounded by inebriated pilots who all gestured wildly and spoke too fast and too slurred for Lena to understand. It was one bullwhip away from looking like that scene out of Raiders of the Lost Ark. If she had to hazard a guess, Master Zenyatta had taken up the role of Miriam, and he was rather enjoying the cacophony of noise around him. She could hardly remember the moments that passed between them but knew that several of the drunk pilots offered her a clear liquid to drink that she politely declined. It smelled of paint thinner.

“Ms. Oxten,” Lena was pulled out of her thoughts when that soothing voice spoke. Next to her Master Zenyatta was looking over the dashboard of the Orca. “I have an inquiry.”

“Yeah? Go ahead,” She smiled brightly as she tried to center her breathing. The last thing she needed was the Shambali monk losing faith in her ability to pilot just because sometimes she static out of existence for a few microseconds.

“Your- what did you call it?- Chrono Accelerator. It is an absolute marvel of technology.”

“Sure is,” She agreed. 

“Does leaping through time and space affect your tastebuds at all?”

“What?” The question caught her off guard. No one had ever asked about her taste before, not even Winston, who had asked her every type of intimate detail about her life. 

“Your tastebuds,” Master Zenyatta asked again, his voice as serene as if he inquired about the weather. “I have heard traumatic events can change the brain make up of your taste.”

Lena pursed her lips. “Peanuts now taste metallic,” She stated after a moment. “And things with too much crunch leaves my mouth feeling like I was chewing on some aluminum.”

“Fascinating,” Zenyatta hummed and sat back, interlacing his fingers together as he looked at the warm, inky blackness of the night sky. “And the texture of aluminum is unpleasant to humans?” 

“Uh,” Lena blinked. “Yes,” She answered finally, unsure if the question was one of actual interest or if the monk was playing around with her.

Master Zenyatta hummed with interest. “And do you like peanuts?”

Lena felt her whole face flush. “I am actually allergic so…I guess not?” She didn’t know why she said the comment about peanuts, they had always made her mouth feel itchy before, she couldn’t rationalize the Chrono Accelerator was to blame for the metallic texture now or if it was her own body rebelling. “Also, fruits taste much sweeter after I jump.”

“Absolutely fascinating,” The monk hummed once again.

Gibraltar was only another hour away. 

___________

Anticipation bubbled through Genji. He could feel it spreading out from his fingertips to his toes. Any moment, gravity would cease to have no hold of him any longer, and he would float above the rest. 

Joy. Unhinged, unregulated joy.

Zenyatta spoke to him every evening, checking on his progress with Hanzo and making sure that his acolyte was not burning the proverbial candle at both ends. They always spoke after meditations, when Genji had released the stresses of the day. Their conversations were jovial and upbeat. Zenyatta spoke of the younger monks with affection while Genji told sordid tales of his teammates. Then, the chatter would slow, and Zenyatta would heave a long sigh before proclaiming it was time for him to depart. Their time was too short. It left Genji with such a bittersweet longing, even while knowing that they would speak again soon.

Genji’s heart beat heavily in his chest, almost threatening to tear apart at the seams. He skipped down the stairs and bounded across the hall. He resisted the urge to leap up as the landing lights flared to life and illuminated the crew next to him.

It was customary for every available Overwatch member to greet their team home after a successful mission. Back in the days when Overwatch numbered in the hundreds, it usually only consisted of your own squadron and the leaders. Medics would be at the ready, just in case of any unreported injuries. It was a signal of comradery and hope. A bright, visible sign that what you did out in the field mattered.

The fourteen people standing around this evening was a far cry from that grandstanding gesture of days past. Somehow, this small gathering felt fuller. This moment felt more full of life and hope and joy than any time he previously departed any ship. It did not matter that not a single one of them stood with rigid formality in unwavering lines. Here, standing among these people he trusted with his life, he felt more at home than he had in months. 

It wouldn’t be long now. Lena had given them a designated time, and if it was one thing the pilot was good at, it was on time. Genji rolled from the balls of his feet to the heels, alternating between rocking back and forth and bouncing. With every passing second, Master Zenyatta grew nearer to him. Already, he could smell that incense that lingered on his robes. He could feel the heat that radiated off his master’s form and left him warm even in the darkest days of winter. His insides bubbled and churned. Even though no one else here had ever met Zenyatta before, he found himself wondering how no one else here was as excited as he. How could they all exist in a sleepy haze and not be as attentive as he?

Not even the former strike commander, who leaned against a heavy crate as he watched the skies for the first sign of the Orca. Surely he had to be expectant that Lena was on her way home. Instead, he leaned against the wooden container pulled up from storage. Ana sat above Morrison, perched on top of the crate like a bird. It must have been a sniper thing, trying to find the highest point and settle in there. Every few minutes, a motherly hand would reach down and stroke back some of the thinning white hair on the top of the commander’s forehead as if she saw a stray hair and needed to flatten it down right away. The pair had been through a lot since the fall of Overwatch. Genji ached with the loneliness they had to endure on those long roads, only to once again find themselves here and in the middle of battle. He doubted retirement would ever suit them anyway.

Reinhardt watched Ana with sparkling eyes, his affections for the woman were well documented and had not lessened with age. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” The large German had proclaimed one morning, with a hand over his heart and flowers in hand. Ana seemed bemused with the situation, and somehow a less-than-conventional-formal-courtship had happened. They acted like teenagers in love and grandparents all at the same time. And it left an agony inside of Genji he could not name or place.

To Genji’s left, Hana and Lucio were huddled together under Lucio’s jacket, their faces both illuminated by a hand-held gaming device. Lucio bounced slightly on the balls of his feet, trying to not let his teeth chatter in the cold dampness of the night. 

It was cute how the pair, both hardened by life and true heroes despite their young ages, still would not dress appropriately for the weather. Instead, Lucio donned his athletic shorts and tank. It must have been dumb luck that had him grab the vibrant blue sweatshirt. Hana wore her pajamas, insisting that they were, in fact, appropriate wear when lounging around the house. Cute pink shorts with bunnies all over them and a matching tank-top. Honestly, if Genji hadn’t been told, he would have assumed it was casual day wear.

McCree was standing aside from them all, puffing away at his cigar while Angela tried to ignore him and read her medical textbook. Genji knew for sure her phone was placed between the pages and she was texting someone, as she ran her finger over the same page for the last fifteen minutes without turning the page once. If he were a betting man, he would assume it was Fareeha, who was abroad working with her father.

The cowboy had been given the order of not to smoke inside. The base had a permanent damp smell attached to it from the sea, and they did not need ash and smoke on top of that as well. He had compensated and was permitted to smoke in his quarters as well, just as long as he opened a window or was in a less communal areas. He had abided those rules just fine. And, as per usual, Hanzo loomed somewhere in the shadows near McCree. His brother still found comfort in hiding, which Genji could not fault him for doing so. 

McCree took another long puff before extending the cigar into the darkness. The darkness that was Hanzo seemed to readily accept the offering as McCree’s hand came back down empty.

Their relationship was strange still to Genji. Neither man seemed particularly interested in the comings and goings of the other. Overall, Hanzo and McCree took to ignoring each other entirely in any public space. Yet they appeared almost attached to the hip at all times. 

Zenyatta had mused it was part of the healing process. Both brothers were looking to form some kind of relationship with each other, but still, their wounds were too fresh. McCree was a conduit between them, a person not attached to either that could mediate this new, growth between them.

To Genji, it felt like there may have been something more than just that if only he could name it. 

Genji felt his stomach churn. Restless nerves spiked inside him as Athena turned on the searchlights, pointing them up to the heavens as on the horizon, a ship came into focus. The pain inside him grew tenfold. The loneliness and misery and homesickness all boiled and festered inside of him, growing in intensity as he waited with bated breath. It was almost as if all of this had lived inside of him for these months only to now, in this exact moment when he knew he would be reunited, they manifested.

He wanted to cry, wanted to howl and wail, and scream at the sky as if he were a child. He craved to whoop loudly and scream in delight. He wanted to collapse with exhaustion. Every emotion tangled inside of him as those lights slowed to a stop overhead and slowly descended. 

At that moment, the homesickness for Nepal and Overwatch and Hanamura fermented and clarity overtook his addled mind.

Suddenly, Genji was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of Hearts and Cores artwork by [Captain Needs No Sleep](https://twitter.com/SleeplessCap)


	2. A moral crisis

"Master," Genji put on his best whining voice as he flopped onto the tatami mat in Zenyatta's quarters. "Are you sure you are ready for this? It is your first mission abroad."

The ninja knew exactly how whiny and childish he sounded in the presence of his master, which was the goal. Already, they had spoken at length about the genuine possibility of getting orders that would require them to be apart. Still, Genji hadn't expected Zenyatta to get the call abroad before him.

In his mind, Genji knew he was the one with more experience in the field. He had trained with the Shimadas and worked with Blackwatch and Overwatch. It had been his life for a decade already, and he was prepared to leave his master behind.

He hadn't prepared for the reality that Zenyatta was not just another monk. He was a high ranking Shambali, the brother of Mondatta, and a very eloquent speaker. People wished to hear his views and know more about him. 

He blamed Angela. She was the one who had initially been invited to the World Summit Conference to speak about the advances in bionic technology, and she was the one to mention Genji's master to the council. They had been thrilled to learn about the Shambali's investment in Dr. Ziegler's research and had invited Zenyatta to be a guest speaker as well.

Genji hated them for it.

Zenyatta just chuckled as he carefully folded his belongings into the suitcase, running his delicate hand over the simple fabrics to smooth them. "Genji," He said with a warning tone filled with warmth and the threat of a lecture. The same speech Genji had experienced half a dozen times over the past week.

Genji sighed and ran a thumb absentmindedly across his eyebrows, feeling the raised skin of scar tissue that no longer ached or pained him. It was a comfort now, touching his face and feeling the skin react under his thumb. "I know this is for the betterment of our world." He parroted his master's tone.

He reclined further into the tatami and observed the omnic. Genji had dressed down, no armor plating, and no breathing apparatus that helped him regulate the oxygen in his system. No facial mask to hide his identity. Here, laying in his master's room, he was nothing more than just plain Genji Shimada, sans all the bells and whistles. 

Genji frowned as he watched Zenyatta set a pair of bright orange silks into the suitcase. "Why are you packing so many clothes? You don't even sweat, and if you choose, you could float everywhere." It was an irrational question, Genji was aware of that, but each moment, he felt Zenyatta drifting further away from him again.

"Angela stated that the mission is only going to be for two weeks at most," Zenyatta stated in that calm, even tone he frequently used with Genji when he could sense discomfort in the other. "You will barely miss my presence here, Sparrow." 

"And you have been here for only two months! We are still getting you settled in. Does Winston even have you fully in the system yet?" Another question to divert attention away. A way to make excuses over what was now inevitable. 

This mission was for the best, Genji knew. Overwatch's reclaiming of the public spotlight wasn't the only thing that had resurfaced. Recently, Talon had grown in strength and power, or at least it appeared that way. They foiled more and more terrorist plots each week, and the deep tendrils of Talon had surfaced in their wake, exploiting members of different organizations.

Fear had gripped the populous. 

The world needed more than heroes. It needed healing. Winston, acting as the new commander of Overwatch, stated that no one on the team better encapsulated the message than the pacifist monk.

Genji let out a second overly dramatic sigh, one he noted Zenyatta ignored, and let out a third. 

The glass chime that dangled in the window caught his eye. The yellow and orange light reflected the sun onto the ceiling and wall. It danced as the light bathed the room in a warm glow that reminded him of the Iris.

The whole room radiated a warmth Genji had not thought possible when it came to a standard-issue military dormitory. Arranged throughout the room were small trinkets and mementos of home, a woven straw rug laid out on the floor, charms dangled from every available hook from the Shambali. 

Monks, Genji had always assumed, lived simple, unrefined lives built on the ideas of forced poverty as a way to stay humble. It was right for the most part. Many of the order had rejected material possessions when they joined the religious order. Still, it wasn't for some convoluted idea that less made them closer to nature and a higher power. 

It was because your possessions came to own you. Properties became a symbol of status and power. The Shambali did not believe in that.

Zenyatta's artifacts were a symbol of his relationships. They were, in a way, his tokens that related to people and places he had been along the way.

The prayer rug was woven during the winter months when the frigid temperatures were too extreme for even someone made of carbon and steel — creating it with his brothers and sisters as a way to build the community and commodity. The glass chimes were a gift from the indigenous peoples of the mountain. It was thanking them for the bountiful harvest the Shambali cultivated and donated to the people of the mountain. Even the small, wooden elephant carved and painted with an amateur's hand was set out with a predominate position of honor on the monk's packed shelves.

Genji's eye traveled along the length of the room. Every corner utilized for the monk's comfort. There was no bed since Zenyatta did not need sleep, but McCree had found a worn plush chair in one of the abandoned quarters that didn't reek of musk and damp. The vibrant cranberry color had faded to a dreary pink, but it pleased Zenyatta none the less. Next to it was an equally tattered wooden side table, stacked high with ancient books by authors with names like Heinlein and Bradbury. Each with brittle yellow pages and barely held inside their tattered paperback covers.

And, to his chagrin, a solar-powered crab that danced in the sun and proclaimed 'Welcome to the Bahamas!'. It was a gift from McCree that screamed of poor taste and a lack of decore, but Zenyatta loved the tiny creature.

Plants grew with abundance in the small room. It seemed every time the monk headed to the markets for the weekly resources run, another sickly fern he insisted he could revitalize and rejuvenate came with him. He hadn't been wrong either. Creeping hostas bloomed with magnificent greens and yellows and purples all along the floor and windowsill. 

Zen loved the small things any other person would have seen as broken or worthless. Those trinkets adorned all his spaces. Naturally, he found his home here on a campus filled with broken and abandoned people.

Genji's eye lingered on the shelf just above Zenyatta's workspace, to the shelf dedicated to all the little presents Genji had gifted to his master. Folded paper cranes, slightly crumpled, from the day Mondatta died. Colored stones Genji had found during one of their many meditative walks. He had only played with it in his hands, turning it over and over while speaking quietly about the horrors that lay inside Shimada Castle. Zen had kept it. Even after Genji insisted, it held no importance. Zenyatta found beauty in the ordinary.

He found beauty in Genji.

Finally, Zenyatta seemed satisfied with his packing. He settled himself next to Genji. Warmth radiated from his body. Genji resisted he urge to roll over and bury his face in the soft robes of his master. The earthy scent of sage and lemongrass lingered there, grounding Genji to that space. "Will you bring me back a present?" he mumbled.

Zenyatta chuckled. He stroked his fingers through Genji's hair affectionately. "Spoiled." He tsked. Genji allowed his eyes to drift closed as the fingers threaded through his dark locks, against his sensitive scalp. He breathed in the calmness of the other, "Will you look over my plants while I am away?"

"I'll probably overwater them," Genji mumbled.

"Then I will have a project when I return," Zenyatta countered. His fingers lazily twirled a strand of black hair. "Our separation is greatly affecting you, isn't it?"

Genji hummed in affirmative. "It feels like you just arrived."

They sat together in silence. Genji felt himself drifting to sleep with the gentle, rhythmic hum of Zenyatta's core. Warm. Content. He did not want the other to leave, and yet he knew it wasn't impossible.

"Would," Zenyatta's calm and soothing voice broke through the silence like a wave upon the shore, pulling Genji back into the dreamlike wakefulness he only found in the presence of the other. "Would it aid you if I left you something behind? A moment of myself?"

Genji hummed again, "Master, I already plan on being in your quarters, caring for your plants." 

Yes, he would like that.

A weight fell lightly against Genji's chest. It hummed with the same soft vibration of his master and was warm to the touch. "Master?" Genji blinked as his hand reached up and curled around the bronze and teal orb. A relic of the Shambali that harnessed both the awesome power of harmony and dispair.

"Will this suffice while I am away?"

"Master-" Genji repeated. They were also an effective weapon, Genji had realized. Intuned to Zenyatta's interfacing and programmed to do his bidding. The orbs, like Zenyatta, harnessed the ability to defy gravity. Like Zenyatta, they held a mysterious power Genji could not explain. 

To be without them, even for a moment…

Mondatta had relinquished the orbs while in London, stating to his people that wearing them would only look like an act of open hostility. He was without them when-

"I will be safe, this is a peacekeeping mission," Slowly, Zenyatta's hand descended, stroking Genji's cheek with his thumb. As always, it felt as if the monk could instinctively sense his discomfort. "Commander Morrison will be there, as well as Reinhardt and Lena." 

"Master Mondatta was on a peacekeeping mission as well." He stated bluntly. Bottling up his anxieties did no good, not when Zenyatta could read him so easily.

Silence fell between them again, but not the warm quiet from before. Zenyatta's shoulders hunched as the thumb against Genji's cheek slowed to a stop. "Mondatta was a fool," He stated finally. "He decided long ago that security would not be needed. He chose to put himself in that line of danger. I choose to lead a life that could potentially place me in harm's way, but I will take more precautions. I have Lena there to protect me. And Jack. And Reinhardt. Angela will be coming in a few days after we have settled. And your brother will be there as well."

Laughter bubbled out of Genji as he stroked the soft orb, outlining a deep-set scratch in the bronze ball. "I don't know why, but knowing Hanzo will be there makes me feel," He paused, searching for the right word and settled on, "Relieved."

"Do you trust him to care for me?" Amusement fluttered around the omnic as he took up the task of petting his student's hair again. 

Genji leaned into the friendly affection, craving the simple touches deep into his core. "No ...yes...I mean, Hanzo will do his job and protect you, but I've been on the brunt end of his anger, and I know he loved me. I can't imagine what he would do to someone he didn't care about."

"Are you telling me you find comfort in knowing he would avenge my death swiftly?"

Genji snorted. "No, I take comfort in the fact of knowing that vengeance will be slow and painful. Not that I wish pain on anyone, master. Peace and prosperity first."

Zenyatta chuckled. "My student, do not worry yourself into knots over me. I am in capable hands. And you will be keeping a part of me with you, so I am also in your hands."

The orb in Genji's hand chimed like a bell as he rolled it over. The same bronze sound that followed the monastery and reminded him of home. Soft and serene, but still capable of a power it hardly ever utilized. Just like his master. 

_________

"I was thinking," Genji kept his voice chipper as he followed Zenyatta to the airstrip. Already, Lena had fueled the Orca for departure; all she needed now was the team. "Hanzo has been doing well here on his own, maybe he and I could trade places, that way I am there to protect you, Master and--"

He stopped as Zenyatta reached over and carefully touched his forearm. The gesture was light, a clear signal to stop talking before he made a fool of himself. Slowly, he let his gaze wander over to his master. He pursed his lips to keep from arguing.

"It is for the best," Zenyatta spoke barely over a whisper as they continued down the hall. "We both came here to make the world a better place. What good would either of us be if we do nothing but stand in each other's presence?"

Genji looked own, quietly contemplating his master's words as he was taught. "I know." He didn't have to like it, though.

"Genji," the sound of his name brought his eyes back up to his master. The monk stared on ahead, not looking over to the man next to him. He looked just as Mondatta had done every time he left the monastery with his chin held high, looking noble and serene. "It is unfair to us both if we don't learn how to be without the other's presence. We need to learn how to handle existing alone."

Genji felt his throat go dry at those words. 

We. We have to learn. It was as if Zenyatta himself could feel the tug of separation, and he regretted it just as much. As if he also wished to be near Genji just as much as Genji wanted to be with him.

His breath shortened as they neared the tarmac, already he could see the rest of the team assembled. The Orca was fueled and ready for departure.

Angela stood with Morrison, a tablet in hand. Without even needing to hear them, he knew the pair were only speaking of the itinerary and minute to minute plans for the mission. Both agents well versed in their fields, and both as anal-retentive as the other when it came to schedules. One positive thing to come out of this whole mission was the knowledge that both of them would have their hands full with trying to keep Zenyatta on anyone's schedule but his own.

"How can I possibly go on without seeing your sweet face, my love." Reinhardt's booming voice bellowed over the others as he made another distressed noise and covered his heart with his free hand. His other hand was clasped gently in Ana's.

The sniper chuckled and patted his arm, clearing enjoying the tender affection, as well as the fact that the entire team was giving them attention. "My dearest," She cooed. "By the time you get there, you will have forgotten all about me."

"Never, my pet. How could one ever forget a beauty such as yourself."

McCree rolled his eyes and covered his face with his hat, clearly embarrassed in Fareeha's stead. The cowboy was standing off to the side of the group, closer to the shadows. It was a placement Genji had noticed the man often took now. 

Hanzo was next to him, dressed in his gear with a duffle bag over his shoulder. He was smiling as he nudged the other man with his shoulder and said something to the cowboy that Genji couldn't hear. The red flushed that colored the cowboy's cheeks was easy to read. McCree fumbled with something in his hands and turned his gaze away as he shoved it into Hanzo's hands. 

The archer looked bemused.

Time cruelly sped up. Lena called for boarding. The small crew gave their last goodbyes before heading into the belly of the ship. He wanted to reach over and hold Zenyatta's hand and threaten never to let it go as the monk stepped forward and disappeared himself. 

Instead, he stood firm with his chin held high. An ache settled into his heart as he watched the ship slowly ascend into the sky and disappear against the horizon. He hadn't had enough time to say goodbye. 

Zenyatta was gone.

The loneliness burned inside of him. He wished to wail and scream at the injustice of it all, but he didn't. It felt as if something punched against the back of his eyes. It kicked at the back of his throat.

Genji swallowed the feeling back as a massive arm landed on his shoulder. The smell of cigars and stale coffee flooded his senses. "Ten bucks says Rein acts like a lovesick fool the whole trip," McCree teased.

Genji laughed. "Ten bucks says you aren't going to know what to do with yourself now that your shadow is gone."

The blush returned to McCree's cheeks. "Shadow? Now, Genj, I don't right know what you are talkin' about there." 

Genji continued, "It is only two weeks. Reinhardt has survived an even longer time apart than that. It's part of the life we have chosen to live. Love and romance have to take a back seat."

McCree gazed longingly at the place where the Orca once stood. He nodded in agreement. "People have a way of makin' things work, though, ya know? These things take time and effort. Besides, Rein and Ana are from the same cloth. They were made for each other. You can only hope you find something like that for yourself, ya know?"

Genji knew. 

He knew so well the ache that swelled inside him. He knew the feeling of wanting so badly to be with that one person that everything else inside of him hurt. There was just something in the way Reinhardt pulled Ana's small frame against him tightly. The way he whispered soft phrases into her hair and the way Ana rubbed his arms and soothed the larger man with her soft touch. It set the ache deeper into Genji's core.

Cut from the same cloth. Two sides to the same coin. A pair that belonged together so naturally, Genji could not think of them as anything but belonging to each other.

The way Zenyatta carefully touched his cheek, his fingers caressing over his scared skin with a warm touch. The way the omnic would brush back his hair as they lay together for warmth during the long Nepal winters.

"Don't worry, Genj," McCree's charming voice broke through his thoughts as the cowboy pulled away. "It won't be long, and your boyfriend'll be back. Besides, I've seen him in the training room. He isn't some spring daisy you gotta worry about trampling. He is a strong, smart sucker."

"Boyfriend?" He didn't mean to shout the word, but in an instant, he felt the eyes of the team upon him. Genji felt his face flush down his shoulders and onto his back. Already he knew he was the color of a ripe strawberry. 

McCree laughed nervously as he removed the hat from his head and fanned his face with it, "Well, no...I mean, obviously, you aren't...partners?" The inflection rose on the last word as if it were a question. It was as if the term was the issue and not the whole concept of Genji and Zenyatta linked romantically. He at least had the decency to look appalled. "Genji, I love you, man, but I don't know what to call an omnic and a cyborg pairing." 

McCree moved quickly, clonking Genji hard on the back with his cybernetic hand as he scooted backward with a hop. "Point is, don't worry. It's fine. I support you. Bye." He darted out of the room and left almost like a ninja. Almost.

Genji's mouth stood agape as he watched the spot where McCree exited, sure the other would return with a laugh. Internally, Genji's inner cooling system whirred to life, sensing the heat and sweat pouring off his skin as if he had just run through a full course training.

He repeated the word quietly as if he was testing out the word to see how it felt on his lips. "Boyfriends."

_______

The soft hum of the Orca's engines helped to sooth the quell of emotions that rose up inside of Zenyatta. Genji was distressed by this departure, that was evident. The ninja, while excellent at stealth, was terrible at hiding his own emotions. It made it harder to leave, but Zenyatta knew this was for the best.

He had approached Winston after learning about the conference from Angela. What Overwatch needed was to creating lasting relationships with other agencies. Going to meet with other diplomats would help foster the ideas of the new Overwatch. 

Winston had agreed wholeheartedly. The Overwatch of the past had devolved into a strange military police organization. True, it's intent was to not adhere to one government body and work at world safety but, as McCree put it elegantly, fingers got into the pudding. 

Zenyatta saw Overwatch as an opportunity to return to its pure form. They were a group of people with particular talents that could be used for so much good. He knew that. Now, it was just up to the world to learn of them.

Winston had allowed for Zenyatta to choose the team on the condition that the old Strike Commander followed. Jack Morrison may not have been in charge, but he was a man with knowledge of how this world worked. Zenyatta had agreed wholeheartedly. 

His next two choices were Lena and Reinhardt. Both were national heroes, leading the charge on saving the world. They were also instantly recognizable celebrities that had nearly spotless records. Lena Oxton could charm her way into and out of any situation, plus she had a charisma that would stomp out any objections. 

Reinhardt was similar. Zenyatta knew of his fall from grace, and how that profoundly impacted the towering German, but still, he remained a hero. Posters of the man could always be found plastered inside children's bedrooms. Stories of Reinhardt's valor still circulated. The forced retirement had been a black mark on his career, but with time, people seemed to care little about it. 

People loved Reinhardt too much to let a black mark tarnish his reputation. Zenyatta could see why, as well. He was everyone's friend with a knack for remembering names and faces. He could meet a man a decade ago and still retain his children's names as if they had just spoken the day before. 

It was a skill that few possessed. Even the best Omnic could not remember the fine details that came naturally to Reinhardt.

Even without Zenyatta's invitation to join the group, Dr. Ziegler had been invited to attend as an honorary speaker. It was luck on his part that she would continue to represent Overwatch even while attending. The good doctor held sway already with tat community, plus she was eager to go on a mission that wouldn't involve her elbows deep in a friend's torso.

Hanzo was the member of the team he was most interested in getting to know. The elder Shimada brother had spent considerable time avoiding Zenyatta at every turn. At first, he assumed it was the man's natural distrust of people. The archer rarely showed up to social events or any gatherings unless mandated by the strike commander. But even in those quiet moments, Hanzo seemed to avoid Zenyatta at every turn. He would hide himself away or leave the room. It became increasingly apparent that the man was not going to let Zenyatta near him. 

And that was fascinating. 

Hanzo had not been there long, only several weeks longer than he had been there, but already Zenyatta can see how Hanzo's presence changed his student. There was anxiety that bubbled inside Genji that had not been there before, a shared unease between both Shimadas. It was an odd dance the brothers played off of one another. Simultaneously, the pair avoided each other at every turn, but also seemed drawn to the places the others dwelled. It was apparent that they both missed each other dearly. 

It was a pain that Zenyatta understood well.

Mondatta had not left his mind for a single instant. He still heard his voice in the wind and felt his presence all around himself. He felt it first at Mondatta's funeral.

Not the public funeral, where the dignitaries spoke wildly of the omnic's contribution to the word, but the quiet service in their mountain village, surrounded by the other omnics. It happened so quietly, Zenyatta had not even felt its presence until it was a raging torrent. 

Standing in the snow while the wind whipped around his face, something changed within him. It was a deep loneliness he could not name. He could not name. It was something that lived so deep within him. It felt so hollow and empty. 

Mondatta's death was sudden. Omnics, as a whole, did not have sudden deaths. Circuitry slowly decayed, or their neural networks broke down beyond repair. To Zenyatta, death was a planned, slow process. No omnic just died. It was always gradual. 

Bodies were nothing more than a replaceable shell. When the time, you could plug yourself into a new body and continue. Everything could be repaired or replaced. Plus, if the need ever arose, an omnic was able to transfer their subconscious. The only part of Mondatta that truely mattered was his memory cards and motherboards, both of which were in perfect working order.

That is, they were until a sniper bullet penetrated his exterior casing and shattered everything that had been Mondatta in less than a second. Mondatta just blinked out of existence.

And Zenyatta was left behind. 

He was now the functioning leader of the Shambali, and it was his job to hold everything together, even as the order began to fray around the edges. The Shambali turned to him for comfort. For explanations.

It was as if Zenyatta was more equipped than the rest of the order. 

Throughout the following weeks, Genji had remained quiet. He secluded himself away from the order and huddled nearer to the shadows. Zenyatta could see his favored student slowly slipping away once again, becoming the angry demon filled with pent up aggression and rage. 

And yet, Zenyatta had not been equipped to help his student. He watched Genji, as if the other stood at the other end of a long tunnel, just out of his reach. This onslaught of new emotions frightened him.

The order turned to Zenyatta at this moment, seeking answers and a balm for their shattered hearts. How was he more able to help them when he could not grasp the concept of death as quickly as his order assumed he would. 

Instead, Zenyatta sat alone in his quarters. He allowed the cold winter wind to whip through his opened windows and freeze his joints while his internal fans slowed to a crawl. He wanted to feel what it must have been like not to exist anymore. How would Mondatta have felt, knowing his body could no longer function, and his mind was scattered neural pathways?

And Genji had been there in his time of greatest weakness. Quietly, his student entered his room. He draped a woolen blanket over his cold shoulders and sat beside him. It was that simple.

Genji, the broken man that came to them in silence and anger, let out a laugh. It was the first laugh Zenyatta had heard since the world lost its axis, and everything shifted. "Usually, in times like this, humans bring food," Genji said before sitting seiza in front of him, his rolling laughter turning to a chuckle. "When Father-my father died, people came from all over and left us food. It is strange, but I remember thinking about how much of it was going to waste. Hanzo and I had chefs. Never in our lives had we ever needed the charity of others to feed. I only had so much stomach, and there were so many things to eat."

Zenyatta looked up at the student seated in front of him. The joints in his neck creaked quietly. His mind whirred back to himself, wondering why Genji was telling him this.

"I remember Hanzo and I sneaking away after the service and sneaking a whole cake into his room. We ate the whole thing before anyone knew we were missing. That is the only memory I have of the entire day."

Together, they sat in silence.

"It's hard, I know," Genji continued. his hand reached out and rested against Zenyatta's knee. "It all feels wrong and out of place, and you wonder when it will ever feel normal again.

"But the truth is that it won't. It won't feel normal again. It will never feel normal, and that's…" Genji's voice cracked then. He cleared his throat and continued. "it's okay not to feel normal." 

He had sat with Zenyatta in silence. It wasn't until the sun had passed the line of the horizon, and the room was shrouded in darkness. Genji made no point to move, but sometime during the night, he left, only to be back again the next morning. He pulled open the shades and let the warm sun stream in.

"Father left a hole in my heart and in my life," Genji sat by Zenyatta once again. "I did what you are doing now and found a place to hide away. I thought that if I hid away, then the disease and the death wouldn't be real. My father would still be in his sickbed and breathing. He wouldn't be in a small black box that fits in both my hands. This big, imposing man who was the rock and foundation of my life would not weigh less than my school backpack. It was a lie I wanted to believe."

Zenyatta felt his words like a punch to the gut as if Genji's words were able to bruise him more than fists ever could.

"And you want to believe the lie too."

Zenyatta looked at the man seated in front of him. For the first time, he noticed the stoic way he had to learn to hold himself and the deep inner strength that Genji held. 

"I am going to do to you what was done for me then," Genji stated. He clapped his hands and rose to his feet, stretching his back. He smiled down at Zenyatta and held out his hand "I needed someone to kick my ass into gear and get me moving again. He's dead, Zenyatta. Mondatta is gone, and he is not going to come back." 

Tracks of tears streaked down the man's cheeks. Tears he did not dare wipe away. "And it sucks. Everything about it sucks, and you can be sad about it. You can be mad about it, but goddamn it, you can't just sit inside here and hope the mountains swallow you whole."

Zenyatta watched as the young man grabbed both his wrists. He yanked. "You have had time to think and process what has happened, but enough is enough."

Genji was true to his word, and he kicked Zenyatta's ass into gear, just as he had done for every other monk. He had entered the monastery and threw open the windows, letting in the light and shutting out the cold. Genji had refused to let Zenyatta sink back into himself. He refused to let him sit alone any longer.

It was the brevity of human compassion he had never experience before. It seemed that every human knew their mortality and the deep understanding of the pain of loss. Humans, he realized, had no choice but to acknowledge and understand loss.

It was at that moment, Zenyatta saw Genji for who he really was. Not just some broken man who was looking for his redemption. He was not only that smiling monk learning to coexist with his cybernetic parts. Suddenly, in one swift moment, he saw Genji for who he was.

And he loved him.

The recall came only weeks later. Genji said nothing, but the angst was plain to see, he was torn between his duty to the Shambali and Overwatch. Zenyatta knew when Genji came and sat seiza in front of him that a decision had been made. 

Genji dropped the bombshell Zenyatta had been waiting for, but it was not the one he expected to hear. "I want to go to Hanamura."

He didn't need to say anymore. Genji packed up and left. 

And Zenyatta soon found that he was the one longing to be in the other's presence. He longed for the warmth of Genji's light.

At his feet, Zenyatta heard the chiming of the orbs, a familiar comfort. Somehow, it was more comforting to know that one stayed behind with his student. A piece of him remained with his student and…

He wanted more.

_______

The room felt different now. The sun had moved, and the glass in the window no longer glowed. The artificial lights from overhead bathed the room in an unnatural white glow. Everything felt harsher. It felt unrealistic.

Genji sighed and flicked off the lights, preferring to sit in the darkness.

Anyone who saw him would have called him childish for acting in such a way, but honestly, his whole attitude this day was immature. He would throw his tantrum for the remainder of the day, and tomorrow would be better.

Mostly, he felt empty.

Genji settled himself on the soft mats and laid back. Mentally, he knew what to do to calm himself down, but the idea of lighting incense exhausted him more. Besides, he reasoned, in this state, he was likely to fall asleep. Fire and sleep were a poor mixture.

"Agent Shimada," Athena's voice warmed the room. 

Genji groaned and rolled himself over, onto his belly. "don't tell me I have a meeting."

"No," The AI system sounded amused. "I just wished to inquire if you required anything."

"just a nap," He grunted.

"I understand," Athena hummed lightly. "I have set your communications devices to "Do Not Disturb." Sleep well, Agent Shimada."

Genji smiled, mumbling a final thank you before he groped blindly for the pillow he knew lay off to his side. Meeting had been scheduled between him and Winston, but Angela had been a true angel of mercy after the Orca had left. She took one look at Genji as he slugged his way into the conference room and whisked him back out without a second thought, telling him to take a nap. 

And by god, he was going to follow doctor's orders.

He groaned and rolled over onto his back once again, stuffing the pillow under his head and grateful that the daily plans left him without need to don all his protective armor and weaponry. It wasn't that it was heavy, or cumbersome since each piece was individually made for his body, but walking around without it was more akin to spending the day in your underpants, except no one around here knew that.

Well, Bastion, Orisa and his master would, since there were also made up of cybernetic  
materials, but no one that would have been appalled at his actions knew, and that is all that mattered.

Genji let out a massive groan as he stretched and arched his back, trying to find a comfortable position. His back ached. It was from the tension. He had forgone his usual routine to stay closer to his master's side, and now his body was retaliating as a result.

He took a long, low breath and settled his shoulders back. He missed Zenyatta, but to be fair, it was selfishly indulgent to have quarters all to himself again. Life on the base had been a never-ending run from one emergency to the next. It seemed like once one metaphorical fire went out, a literal fire began somewhere else.

Back in Blackwatch, and even Overwatch, he had hardly noticed. Of course, the ranks then had been in the thousands instead of the tens it was now. Now, it was punitive that anyone with any training was set out first to deal with any issue. And somehow, Genji had become a senior officer.

The irony of it all could not escape him. He had purposely ignored his duties with the Shimadas to make sure his responsibilities were low. Now here he was, a decorated veteran officer training resistance fighters. In some ways, it was hilarious.

It had been literal months since the last he had any time for himself. Everything seemed to move too fast. Everyone needed so much from him. And any time he had to himself was spent resting or planning for the following day. 

It was nice to have time for himself now. Time, where he didn't have to prepare dinner for others. A time when he wasn't required to inventory musty storerooms. Just time on this own where he could do what he wanted when he wanted.

And his body reacted.

Genji sighed and let his hand roam over his stomach, feeling the tight muscles meshed with cybernetic skin. He pushed up his baggy sweatshirt further, letting the warm air of the room settle against his bare flesh.

When had been the last time he indulged in such a way? When was the last time he had granted himself the luxury of lounging nude?

Quickly, he stripped himself down before flopping back. He stretched out his long limbs, hearing the joints in his artificial spine pop back into place. Of all the things that had previously upset him about his new body, he had always loved the familiarness of popping himself back into place.

His hands roamed over his exposed skin, still so sensitive and responsive under his fingers.

How long had it been since the last time he had indulged himself? Months, that was clear with how alert his cock was to just the exposure to the night. His body craved it, the euphoric release that came from his own familiar hands.

His mind wandered as he reached down and grasped his aching cock in hand. He let out a gasp, his other hand flying to his mouth to cover the audible noise. Sure, he was alone now, but walls were thin, and distressing sounds meant investigations. His cock leaked in his hand, dripping pre down the sides of his hands and slicking up his shaft. 

He wouldn't last long, that much was obvious. 

It felt so good, his hand slowly sliding down, pulling the sensitive skin back to reveal his fiery red head. It begged to for his caress.

He dropped his hand down, rolling the head against the palm of his hand while the other stroked up the safe. His thighs trembled, arching up into the warm heat. He tilted his head back and gave into temptation.

Fantasies played behind his closed eyes, of other hands caressing his body, kissing along his heated skin and pressing themselves at his sides, nameless, formless bodies, Memories of lovers' past. 

It had been even longer since he had another warm his bed. Blackwatch didn't net many opportunities except needy groping in the dark. Always too fast and cold. Back then, it had been enough. It was the knowledge that there was a world outside the unfriendly confines of concrete bunkers. There was something more, something deeper they were fighting for.

Now, he wanted more. He needed more than quick touches in the night. More than whispered lies, neither of them believed. Now, Genji wished to be bathed in adoration, to feel a lover pressed so close to him. 

He wanted to feel their hands against his skin, touching him everywhere — soft caresses. Warm touches. Never worrying about is scarred body. They are kissing against his brow and holding him close in their golden embrace.

Genji panted. His hand flew furiously as he bucked his hips up into the warm tunnel of his hand. Warm hands caressing his skin, bathed in golden light. The soft, familiar vibrations of another body on top of his, riding him, pressing against him. Genji's hands would wrap around that thin waist, his fingers nearly touching with how small his partner was. How weighty he felt on top of Genji.

That soft, calm voice would suddenly hitch to levels Genji had never heard as he fucked deep into the other. He imagined the sweet sounds of the other. The tight embrace of the other's body. How wonderfully delicious it was to feel their tight body clench around his own.

In his daydream, he was pulling his lover in close, kissing along the long column of their neck, tasting their body. Wanting to keep them close at all times, holding the other through their earth-shattering orgasm.

God, what he would give to be able to have his fingers melt against their spine, feeling every indentation and node. Touching places he had only dreamed about. 

Red wires tangled in his fingers. That warm body pressed against his skin, nuzzling sweetly against his neck, smooth and buzzing with life and their hot release.

Genji felt his testicles draw closer to his body. His hand moved furiously, pumping his cock as he felt the first ribbon of cum splatter against his stomach and chest. His knees quaked as his hips thrust up into the tight embrace of his fist, not wanting this feeling to end.

Suddenly, he saw their face in his mind, the face that eluded him — the chipped and scared chrome. The soft blue array of lights dancing tranquility as Genji laid him down so gently next to him. He would hold the other close as they kissed, fingers dancing over skin and chrome and wires.

The vision lingered in his mind, long after the cum on his belly cooled — the warm embrace of the other, trapped in his mind's eye.

Genji stared blankly at the ceiling. His soft cock still grasped in his warm hand as the fantasy repeated itself over and over again. Zenyatta.

Zenyatta's warm fingers were wrapping themselves around Genji's aching need while his soothing voice whispered promises to the man. Zenyatta grasping at his shoulders as Genji finally pushed into his warm clutch, taking care of Zenyatta in the only way Genji knew how to. And McCree's words echoed in his mind, boyfriends.

They were boyfriends. 

He wanted that. He yearned for that. He ached for that.

"Oh fuck," Genji gasped into the darkness.

Soon, it was dawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of Hearts and Cores artwork by [Captain Needs No Sleep](https://twitter.com/SleeplessCap)


	3. Are feelings ...normal?

Genji walked as if he were in a dream. Feelings drenched over him as if someone had poured a bucket of ice-cold river water over his head and saturated him completely.

He loved Zenyatta. He loved him wholly and deeply ina way that was unbecoming of a monk. 

And the most shocking part was not the revelation of his feelings, but just how deeply ingrained they already were in the core of his being. Genji had been in love without even knowing. How could a man not recognize until now the deep burning desire that now threatened to consume his all?

Love had always been something that happened. He would see a person and fall. Hard. Love had seemed to drop out of the sky and flatten him like a ton of bricks. It had been an all-consuming blaze within his being that controlled his every action. And most of the time, he ended up burned.

This time felt different. 

Loving Zenyatta did not feel like an inferno that raged inside of him. Instead, it felt like breathing. It had always existed inside of himself without ever needing to acknowledge its presence. For the first time, he could feel it in his veins and giving him life. It freed him.

And that scared Genji more than any enemy ever could. Was it even possible for him to feel that kind of love for another being?

Love, according to the Shimada clan, came with stipulations. It was never something freely gifted to another, but something that needed to be bought or sold. Love was a commodity. It could also be a weapon poised to strike him down at any momentary weakness he may show. 

Love, real, lasting love, did not exist for men like him.

Even worse, what if they were not compatible? 

Genji felt another hard, twisting punch to his gut that left him nearly breathless. That late-night revelation of love left his soul yearning for the other. His soul knew that when Zenyatta returned, it did not matter what happened, Genji knew he would be satisfied with whatever kind of love his master gave him.

But his body craved for more. He ached to feel the intimacy of another's body enveloped in his own. He needed to feel the heat and mounting pleasure of his partners. That glorious release that only came when two bodies were so intertwined that they forgot where one ended, and the other began.

Lovers of the past, while imperfect, filled that need for him. They allowed him that raw connection of human understanding.

But Zenyatta was not human. Zenyatta was never going to be human. It was a hard truth, but Genji was well aware. It was unfair to push those ideals onto his master. Never before had the omnic ever expressed a desire for romance, let alone a raw, passionate relationship. Genji had never seen his master initiate anything close to sexual contact, either. Was it possible he was not interested in what Genji wanted? Could an omnic like Zenyatta even possess the capability of having those moments of tenderness?

Yes, Genji reasoned. Zenyatta was capable of that. He could have easily been asexual. He was the perfect yin to Genji's pansexual, polyamorous yang. 

Genji could respect that about the other. 

But Genji wanted sex.

More than the physical act, Genji craved the hedonistic joy that came when he brought his lovers to new heights. He loved the animalistic, wild sex, where he was free to lose himself in the throes of passion. He longed to melt into another's body. 

It was like touching the sky.

Genji wanted to lose himself in Zenyatta. To feel his master come apart in his hands. But was that even physically possible? Could Zenyatta feel physical pleasure and release? To his horror, Genji realized he did not know enough about omnics as a whole to be able to answer that question.

Genji swore into the empty room. 

It was not possible to just come out and ask his master about his sexual habits. Asking Zenyatta would only open up a slew of new questions centered around Genji's sudden interest in omnic physiology. It was not a topic Genji felt ready to tackle yet. 

"Why do you ask about my penis, dear sparrow?"

"Oh, because I have a massive hard-on for you, Master. "

Fuck. Even in Genji's mind, it sounded contrite and foolish.

How was it in all the years he knew the Shambali he had never thought to ask any of them about sex? 

There were several people on base who were knowledgeable in the ways of omnics, but his questions just felt too juvenile to ask. He needed someone that he knew would not raise more questions along the way.

What he needed was someone who understood the intimate lives of omnics. He also needed someone who would not think twice when Genji asked a crass question. 

He sighed and looked at the clock. 

McCree would be awake by now.

________

"So, uh," Jesse let the last syllable dangle in the air as he rocked back in his wooden desk chair until it balanced on the two back legs. Two empty bottles of beer tinged against each other as they toppled over into the other pile of discarded bottles. 

The day had not exactly gone as planned. Finding McCree had been easy. The cowboy, despite his lackadaisical appearance, was quite punctual with his routine. Which made it all the easier for Genji to become complete chicken shit and procrastinate on every one of his questions.

Instead, they had gone through a Blackwatch training exercise, for old times sake. That was followed by Angela's insistence that they move equipment from the makeshift medical bay into the newly renovated medical wing. After that, when Genji started to feel more confident in himself, Ana had appeared with lunch and stayed.

Needless to say, the presence of a motherly figure like Ana dwindled any chances of Genji feeling confident to ask the cowboy about Deadlock omnics and what kind of depravity they got involved in during his youth. No one wanted to discuss their kinks with their mother around.

Getting McCree hammered and then asking him felt like a genius stroke at the time, but now, sprawled against McCree's unmade bed, Genji was not so sure. He lett the familiar scent of sandalwood and sage wash over him. That was something about the cowboy, Genji mused. He always smelled nice and clean. His sheets were very much like the man himself were worn in and comfortable. Slowly, Genji tilted his head to the side and gave the cowboy a glance with glazed eyes. "What?"

"Zen's been here for, oh, two months now?" McCree continued. He rocked himself back and forth, his own cheeks ruddy red from the alcohol.

Genji's head and neck felt heavy as he slowly pushed himself up to sitting. Around him, the world hummed and vibrated. It had been too long since his last good solid drink, which felt terrific. But somewhere along the way, he forgot why they had been drinking. He smiled, lopsidedly at the cowboy. "And you have been here seven months. Hanzo almost three." He waved his hand, enticing the other to continue.

The drinking had started at well past six. It was now a quarter to ten, and Genji felt confident he would be spending the night with his old bunkmate whether McCree liked it or not. 

"He's been a mighty good boost for morale," Jesse nodded. "Been a fine conversationalist as well."

"You're doing that thing," Genji smiled and flopped himself back down as Jesse gave him a puzzled look. "That thing where you have something you want to ask, but you are too full of your own bullshit to come out and ask. Well?"

"Well, what?" Jesse grumbled. The chair clattered back onto all for legs as the cowboy leaned forward, tilting his hat back. He did that sometimes, Genji mused, to look intimidating. It didn't work.

"Well, ask your damn question before I get bored and leave." 

"I just noticed," Jesse dropped the hat down onto the desk nearest him. His eyebrows furrowed as he frowned, an indicator that drunk McCree was thinking about the words he would say before he said them. "I didn't mean to embarrass you like I did yesterday. That wasn't my intention. I assumed, what with the two of you bein' locked at the hip," His voice trailed off then as he started to ramble, "Just meaning to apologize all day for it."

Genji gave a shrug that he meant to look like it was not something he had hyper fixated on for the better part of the last day. Even in his drunken state, he knew it looked like a lie. 

"I don't exactly know what to call you both, but I wanted you to know I support whatever it is that makes you this happy."

"Zenyatta does make me happy," Genji admitted. "But, I am not sure what we are either."

McCree's eyebrows raised slowly. He lifted the half drank bottle to his lips and let it sit there to keep himself from blurting out.

Genji continued, wanting to fill the silence. "I mean, I am happy that he is still my mentor. I feel like I am learning a lot from him on healthy coping mechanisms, you know? And honestly, I have found so much inner peace within the Shambali order, which is good."

"But?"

Genji let the word hand in the air for a moment. He shrugged again. "I think I want more? How do you know if what you are feeling is like, real emotions, and how much is it a raging boner?"

Jesse chuckled and pushed himself back, balancing one again on the two back legs of the chair. "From my vantage point, it seems you have a mighty good idea of what you want."

"But I don't know," Genji groaned. The palms of his hands pressed hard against his eyes until he could see stars. "I know, but I don't know, and what am I supposed to do? Do I go up to him and just bluntly ask if he wants me to blow him?"

Jesse let out a barking laugh. "I don't think Zen would be much into that. Maybe start slow? Ask him out to dinner and the like?"

"But we already do that!" Genji sighed. "You already assumed we were a couple, how do I ask him 'Do omnics fuck?' because that sounds rude as hell."

McCree was wheezing. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he covered his face, trying to hold in the laughter. The chair clattered forward, and Jesse coughed hard, choking on his own amusement. "Christ, Genji!"

Genji flushed red. "Look, I'm not a complete idiot. Iknow omnics create deep personal bonds. I know Omnic rights have granted them legal marriage status. Omnics have family units, and they love and cherish one another. I know all of that, but I know who I am, and I don't know who Zenyatta is in that regard."

"So, what you are saying is you want to go to bone-zone with Zenyatta?"

Genji gave a weak shrug. "Kind of." Now, he realized this was as good of a time as any. "Do you know anything about it?"

For an instant, Genji was sure the cowboy seated in front of him was going to make another joke at his expense. It was surprising when instead, McCree cleared his throat and with a shrug and said, "Can't speak for 'em but, from personal experience, yeah. Omnics can be capable of intimate relationships."

Genji felt a wash of relief overtake him at McCree's calm tone. He hadn't even noticed the anxiety until nausea melted away. He hadn't been ridiculed about his emotions. He hadn't been shamed. "Do you think Zen would be capable?"

McCree pondered the question. If it had been anyone else seated before him, Genji would have worried about the pregnant pause. McCree was a different kind of man. Silent meant he was thinking it over and postulating a response. "I don't right know." He finally answered. "I ain't going to put words in another man's mouth, but," he paused again, swallowing another long gulp of beer before he continued.

"Deadlock was a haven for many omnics back in the day. Most of the omnics I knew weren't what you would call 'upstanding citizens.' There was still a lot of hate and hostility, and many of the omnics I met were runnin' from some damn ugly situations."

Genji nodded. McCree was a storyteller, first and foremost. In his head, he knew the message he wanted to give, but sometimes it took his mouth some time to get there.

"There were some omnics back in the gang I knew were down for gettin' it, if you know what I mean. But a lot of that was a direct rebellion, same as robbing a bank or stealing high powered weapons. It was a way to say 'fuck you' to society.

"For the most part, Bob, Bars, and the rest of 'em kept to themselves. Back then, I keep thinking there was something more there, but neither one ever spoke, and I never asked."

Genji hummed in affirmative. It was rare for the former gangster to speak openly about his time in Deadlock, especially in a positive light. Old wounds could quickly be reopened. 

"Look, man, I don't know what you and Zen have, but I do know it is real." there was a sincerity behind McCree's eyes that struck Genji to his core. "You ain't the same man you were before, Genj. You're something different. Better. I know it's the drink talkin', but I'm really proud of you, man." McCree's voice hitched as he spoke. He wiped his eyes and laughed again. "Fuck."

Genji smiled and reached over, slapping his arm. "Fucking dork," he said affectionately. Neither of them was particularly good with sentimentality.

"Fuck," McCree repeated with a laugh, running his large hands across his red face. "I am a thirty-seven-year-old idiot that ain't even had one good relationship to my name. I am the worst person on base to be giving you romantic advice. why the fuck are you talking to me?"

"To be fair," Genji teased, "You are the second most emotionally stunted person on base now. Hanzo still has you beat by a mile. Maybe once I get my own bullshit sorted out, I'll set the two of you up on a date. Wouldn't that be a disaster?"

The sound that came out of McCree next sounded like he was choking on his own tongue the moment Genji said the word 'date.' Genji laughed.

"Sure, Genj," Jesse said, his face brilliantly red. "That would be awful. Just the worst." 

________

The Orca landed in Oslo well after midnight, and the hotel well after one in the morning. Zenyatta watched as his teammates existed in that strange place between crashing and sleeping and hyper awake. Jack had checked them into the hotel, then led them up to the suite booked for them.

It was his first instinct to push back against it, stating that an entire suite of rooms for them was more than what they needed, but the reminder that there were five of them, plus the need for security over safety, led him to not saying anything.

Jack divided out sleeping arrangements. Lena would share a room with the doctor once Angela arrived, Hanzo would bunk up with Reinhardt, and Zenyatta would take the third room on his own. Agent Morrison dropped his gear on the couch in the center room and claimed he wanted to stay here, where he could monitor the hallways with ease.

Everyone grumbled without argument and shuffled into their respective rooms while Jack headed out to patrol the halls. Winston had sent them intel while they were in flight about a threat of Talon attacks.

Zenyatta watched the final door shut, leaving him alone in the dark common area. The suite was nice. It was the top floor of the hotel and consisted of the main room with a sitting area, full kitchen, and dining area. Surrounding the main room were three bedrooms, each with two beds. It was enough for the six members of Overwatch to stay while they attended the conference.

He made his way into his single room. The wires inside of him itched. He could feel the thrumming of energy within his core. It had been too long since the last time he had reset his systems and allowed his core to rest. 

Back on base, time seemed to slip away from him. It seemed as if every moment had been filled with duties and regulations. For weeks, he had been trained in protocol and function, as if he were also a soldier. It left him neglecting primary care. On base, he felt the constant need always to be on. He always had to be available. 

That was foolish, he knew. But the charge of electricity in his carbon veins had not itched until this moment. Or at least, he could ignore it better.

He could feel the electricity buzzing through him now. He felt charged enough to power a whole city. He should have taken time for himself each day to meditate and expel small amounts of energy without anyone noticing. What he needed now was a complete release. He needed a full, quick release.

A power bank tended to be the standard method for a release of excess power. It was as simple as plugging one's self in and waiting. It managed to be tedious but efficient. 

It also closed at midnight and would be reopened at six the next morning.

Zenyatta looked wearily at the clock, and the red numbers displayed, willing the minutes to move faster. He still had several hours before the charging room would be unlocked. 

He settled into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him and drowning out the snored Reinhardt was already producing. He let out a sigh into the dimly lit room, thankful for the AI system that flickered to life when it sensed movement inside. He hadn't needed to let out the small noise, but it was a habit he picked up living alongside his student. Zenyatta rather liked the way it felt to his soul. It was soft and expressed all the emotions that he held deep within himself.

He needed to discharge some of the excess energy. The simplest solution, of course, was to overload his system into a soft reset. The issue, of course, was safety. Resetting meant he would have to be offline for a few minutes while his internal systems reconfigured as the sudden overload would drain his excess energy quickly. 

He needed fifteen minutes, at least — two hours at most.

Genji thought of it as akin to sleeping, the handful of times he encountered Zenyatta in such a state. Zenyatta found it cute and, in a way, mildly accurate. Zenyatta figured it more like orgasming so hard you passed out and lived in a blissful state for a short amount of time, but he could never tell his student that. Genji always deflected any conversation about sex.

Zenyatta couldn't blame him. Most people did not look at omnics as sexual beings. That is unless the omnics were in a brothel, then they were seen as sex objects, but again, not usually as creatures that had their drives and motivation for sexual pleasure.

A thrill rocketed up his spine as Zenyatta settled himself on the bed. He reasoned that if any of the team found him, it would be less unnerving to find him in a place where someone usually rested, and not laid out in a meditative position on the floor.

In truth, Zenyatta preferred overloading his system to any power bank. He had managed in the last two months short bursts of energy, but being alone in a room of his own for at least five hours led to more creative outlets.

Zap himself into serenity, he had called it once.

Hands wandered along his core as he stripped himself of his shirt. He folded it neatly and set it on the end of the bed.

He had caught Genji in the act once, back in Nepal. His student had assumed that Zenyatta had powered off for the night. And he had until he heard soft grunting that pulled him back to his senses. In front of him, huddled under the woolen blankets, he watched as Genji's fist moved quickly. He could tell his student was doing what he often did, searching for a quick release. How he had wanted to roll over, let his fingers move against the soft skin that so often stayed hidden away under mental armor of Genji's design.

Genji was beautiful. He was the most striking man Zenyatta had ever met. Hiss oft, vibrant brown eyes and wicked smile. Never before had Zenyatta felt so drawn to a human as he was to this broken creature in need of healing. Never had he wanted to possess a human before and lay with him. Genji was also an elegant machine, his body a template of omnic works melded together with his organic parts. 

The greatest parts of both worlds.

It was a shame that Genji could not recognize the beauty of himself. He could not witness how his body still reacted and quivered. He did not understand the depths of his knowledge or the gift of existing between them all. His student barely had time to learn about his new body before deciding he did not want to know. Zenyatta understood the fear, but never the hesitation.

He wanted to show Genji. He wanted to open up the world of understanding for Genji, the man who was able to do all the things Zenyatta could only dream about.

Zenyatta let his hands travel against his chassis, the tips of his fingers brushing against he wires that vibrate just underneath. He stroked along one exposed cord and felt the jolt rush through his being. He had grown sensitive in the absence of touch.

Genji…

Genji would not know this life. his artificial limbs still reacted like a man's, but how easily Zenyatta could show him more. How wonderfully, possible it was that Zenyatta could teach him about pleasures he had only dreamed about.

Genji's hands, traveling along his frame. his large, strong hands holding tight to his hips, with still such softness. Genji would fear to touch him too roughly. Worry that he would lose his inhibitions and fondle him too roughly.

Genji wouldn't touch him like an omnic. He would embrace him like a human.

A thrill shot through Zenyatta. The idea of Genji. His lips pressed against the juncture of his neck, lapping with his tongue against the sensitive nodules. Genji's body, pressed between Zenyatta's spread legs, nervously asking his master what he should do next. Genji, always so obedient and dominate, all at the same time, wanting nothing more than to grant his master all the pleasure he could afford.

Zenyatta's hands stayed against his frame, ignoring the inner workings just below. Genji would not know how to touch him there. Not yet, anyway. Genji would lean over him, his cock hard and dripping. It would jut away from him, red and warm, begging to be touched.

And Zenyatta would touch him. He would watch the sensitive skin slide in his hands, exposing the flushed and swollen head. 

Zenyatta loosened his pants, kicking them off as he moved under the sheets. It was best not to have his teammates find him naked. Humans were particular about that. He laid back against the mattress and let his hands move against the panel against his groin. His cock sprang free, erect, and lubricated already. Almost humanlike, except for the blue lights and separation panels to make it more pliable than the rest of his frame.

It was a facet of himself; he has always found the most intriguing. 

No omnic was created with reproductive organs. His were an upgrade; one Zenyatta found alluring but overall unappealing. Zenyatta enjoyed the aesthetics of it but found the idea of masturbating with it without much charm and less effective. From watching Genji, it took a lot of wrist movement and time.

Time, Zenyatta mused, he had currently.

Laying against the soft, white sheets with thoughts of Genji thrumming through his mind, a secret thrill jostled him. He wrapped his hand around the sturdy shaft and slowly began to tug. It was an entirely new sensation, but pleasing the way his body reacted. So many sensitive nodes and wires ran through his cock. 

It was instantaneous, the soft cresting of desire inside him. Suddenly, the hand wrapped around him was not his own. Suddenly, it was Genji's soft hand caressing over his length and sending those ripples of pleasure through him. 

In his hand, he knows it feels less than human. His thumb traced over the ridges of bends in the metal, sending another shockwave through him with how sensitive he is. Genji's cock would feel warm in his hand as he stroked along his shaft. HE wondered how weighty his student's balls would be. He had never caressed a man before and always looked about testicles with fascination. He imagined they would be warm and heavy in his hand, but encased in soft sensitive skin.

He wants it. He needed to have Genji's body close to his. Pressing. Stroking. Kissing. 

Biting.

Zenyatta felt the electricity jolt up his back. Excitement at the prospect of Genji, hovering over him. His voice hitching and breathless as he whispered dirty little secrets into Zenyatta's form--Begging to be able to stick his cock inside Zenyatta and rut inside him until he came.

Covering Zenyatta in his spend.

Electricity shuttered through his body and expelled from his core. Thoughts alone, fantasies of Genji dancing in his mind were enough. His hand moved faster on his cock as if it were Genji's. He spread his legs wider. Would he allow Genji to take him? He was capable of that, as well. Just below his cock was that slit.

Genji, lining up his hard cock and pressing into him. Genji, praising him so sweetly at how hot and accepting his body was. Genji would push into him until he reached his hilt before lifting Zenyatta's hips and thrusting into him. Feeling those soft balls slapping against his hips with every deep thrust

Zenyatta arched off the bed; his hips raised high as he felt every gear inside him spasming as the electricity jolted. A sudden burst of pure light flashed in front of his sensors, bright enough to blind him momentarily before everything went dark.

Zenyatta fell against the bed. The room dimmed back to darkness, save for the hum of his lights, down into that beautiful afterglow.

________  
Zenyatta awoke.

It was the best way to describe the feeling of coming back online after a good, long rest. Outside, the sun crested through the sheer drapes and spilled into the room.

Zenyatta sat up and stretched, feeling his joints pop back into place before dressing again. Outside the room, he could hear movement from his other teammates. He must have been the last one up, for once.

The front door shut, and silence followed.

He dressed quietly and stepped out, assuming that he would be alone in the suite. Instead, he was surprised to find the former strike commander sitting with his feet up in a stool. In front of him, the news played on mute.

“Agent Morrison,” Zenyatta greeted.

Agent Morrison grunted in return, his eyes on the scrolling news feed in front of him.

Restless was the best way to describe the inactivity of the man. His eyes, still sharp, darted to the window and out to the busy streets below as if expecting a bomb to go off at any moment. His fingers danced on the cushion next to him as the screen rolled on. 

A pretty girl announced the weather for the upcoming week cheerfully on mute, showing the map with smiling suns and blowing winds animations. It was a standard morning news segment, and still, Agent Morrison watched intently in silence. 

Zenyatta had found it ineffective to talk to the former strike commander when he was in such a state. He was embroiled with his past mistakes in times like this and could not see the future. Not yet, anyway. Every day seemed a little easier.

Zenyatta seated himself at the table in the dining area and pulled out the small work computer issued to him, as well as a small stack of notecards. Later on, he would be expected to give several speeches about the current state of affairs around the world. Zenyatta wanted to make sure his notes were sufficient before he made a fool of himself. 

“Thought AI like you could just telepathy your words into a document,” Jack grunted, his eyes still fixed on the television in front of him. It is the most words the commander had ever spoken to him that wasn’t orders.

“If I wished to, I could easily do just that,” Zenyatta replied. “It is easy to connect my mind to such a simple word processing program. The issue is that thoughts are messy.”

Jack’s eye moved away, staring at the omnic at the table without fully turning his head. It was the first step. Zenyatta continued, “It feels odd to sit and watch as words appear on the screen with my stream of consciousness. It has no passion. It does not feel real when you think of something, and it happens.”

The introspection caused Agent Morrison to grunt in satisfaction, before pushing himself up to stand. He placed his hands in his pockets and walked over to stand behind Zenyatta. He peered over his shoulder at the screen.

The man didn’t seem to be reading through. It was more like he wanted his presence felt. “They wanted to put a chip in my brain,” He tapped at the side of his temple with a smirk. “It would increase productivity, they said.”

Zenyatta did not feel the need to ask who ‘they’ were. “Sounds horrid,” 

Agent Morrison laughed at that. A gruff, genuine laugh that sounded foreign coming from the man. “Reyes said it was just another way for the government to watch what we did behind closed doors. Crazy bastard believed any conspiracy theory.”

“Was he wrong in assuming you had surveillance on you?”

Agent Morrison smiled at that before pulling out the chair nearest to him and sitting down. “Reyes may have been paranoid on most things, but he had reason to believe it. They would have bugged my brain if it meant they were able to control me. But you, I don’t get. I thought you were all about efficiency and data control, being artificial and all.”

It was Zenyatta’s turn to chuckle. ”I am, as you said, artificial, but I can also feel things and reflect. I have an intelligence that goes beyond that of recalling facts. I have the capability of focusing on only one task until it is complete.”

“Then why type?” He asked, bluntly. “You can think of it, and it appears. Why?”

Why indeed? Zenyatta sat back for a moment and let his eyes look at the words he had written days before. “Typing allows for introspection.” He stated. “Th thought goes from my brain, down my arms, and into my fingers. In turn, my fingers are forced to recall where the correct keys are with minimal error, so I must slow down my thought processing to make sure I have accessed the correct combination. If I go too fast, I lose words or create spelling mistakes. I like to type because it makes me more human. After this, I will hand write out my main talking points as well. I have found it to be cathartic. Your brain is much more-” He trailed off, seeking the right word.

“Unorganized?” Jack interjected at the pause.

“Hyper,” Zenyatta concluded. 

Jack cocks an eyebrow at the answer. He did not say anything; instead, he waited for Zenyatta to continue.

”I find it refreshing how open-minded the human brain can be. One minute, you are focused on something like,” Zenyatta made a gesture to his computer screen, “writing an introductory speech for a fundraising event. Within several milliseconds, you are talking about a pet cat you owned as a child.”

“You find our inability to focus endearing?” Amusement sounded in Jack’s voice as he leaned closer. “I thought you machines were able to process a hundred different tasks at once.”

“I can, if I chose to do so, but it is not effective in the least when your task needs attention. But also, my tasks are related to one another. They all resemble and work off of the others. Writing, preparing, and practicing a speech are all related to the objective that I have set out for myself. I don’t have the ability to work on one task and then recall a memory that is untethered.”

Jack let out an uproarious laughed, his gruff voice wheezing in the process. “That’s us. We are here with big, humans brains all untethered and floating freely. You have to be talking about Shimada.” 

The transition in thought was abrupt. Zenyatta watched the man seated next to him, his sharp blue eyes focused on Zenyatta as if he were a mark. Obviously, Genji had not been one of his untethered thoughts. Zenyatta wondered, how long had Morrison been ruminating on this subject? “Yes,” he answered.

“You followed Genji here, to Overwatch.”

It was to be an interrogation. Genji was not here to interrupt or interject. In fact, none of the team was here to stop this. Zenyatta wondered if the sudden absence of the group was planned, or just serendipity. 

He had nothing to hide, and no reason to hide it from the former strike commander. “Yes,” he answered again.

“You gave up your life at the monastery, where no Shambali monk has left since the death on Mondatta for him?”

“Yes”

A gleam came into Jack’s eye. He leaned forward slightly as he spoke his next question with his hands clasped firmly in front of him. “Why?”

Why, indeed. Zenyatta pondered the question, his gaze moving back to the computer screen and the blur of black lettering on a white background. “Concern mostly,” He answered truthfully. “I watched Genji develop these past several years. He has grown strong, and he found steady footing in Nepal with us. I watched the slow process of healing. I watched as he learned to accept his new body and his fate. I helped guide him through his anger, and I watched him find inner peace within himself.

“Essentially, you want to make sure your star student doesn’t backslide without his sponsor near?”

Zenyatta chuckled. “I did very little when it came to his healing. Mostly, I existed in the same location as him. Genji, alone, was the one who wished to find inner peace. He was the one that had grown tired of the fires that burned inside and consumed him.”

Jack sat next to him silently.

“Genji was always brave. I am a monk. I have been a monk my entire existence. During that time, I have been surrounded by care and love, and acceptance. Whatever anger and hurt that I experienced never made me waver in my core beliefs. I was sheltered. All my life, I knew a greater world existed off that mountain top, but I stayed close to home and safety. I traveled, but it was with monks. I spoke out, but it was already to people who wanted to hear. I was content with my life the way it had been.”

“And Genji?” Morrison asked.

“Genji found safety in Nepal as well. It was hidden away from the world, and away from all the sadness that had hurt him. My brother, Mondatta, had wanted more for me. He had wanted me to experience the world and all the goodness and sadness that came with it. It wasn’t until I lost Mondatta that I realized that even my mountain was not safe. It was then that I realized as well that Genji had been content with me, but he was unfulfilled.”

“And you? How do you factor into this?”

Zenyatta wished he could be like Genji. He wished he was able to give the commander a small smile as an answer and hope it was enough.

How did he factor into Overwatch? Why had he come along?

Genji had told him early one morning with a bag packed next to him that he was leaving. Before that, Genji’s words had felt like a promise the other man would never keep. It was something that people said without meaning. But there he was, set to go, and that was when Zenyatta realized that content was not happy. Feeling content was a numbness that settled into his frame and wired into his sensibility. 

He wanted more than anything to be able to understand the human condition. He tried to understand every piece and particle that came into what it meant to be a living creature, only to realize that he had trapped himself away and observed them from afar. 

He was like a pretty songbird trapped in a cage. His sparrow wished to be free, and Zenyatta wanted more. He wanted to see the good and the bad that existed in all people and to make a real difference. He tried to understand that Mondatta’s death had meaning.

And he wanted to be with Genji.

In his silence, Morrison seemed to understand. He said nothing as he rose himself up and walked away, into the kitchens. Zenyatta silently thanked him for that.

“The team is on patrol right now, looking for breaks in the system and making sure security is tight during the event. They’re going to be back at eleven, and I can tell you now, Reinhardt will be expecting food.”

“I see,” Zenyatta shut the computer and rose.

Jack pulled out a skillet. He set it on the stove and went to grab ground beef. “Lena is a bear when she is hungry. I’m sure she would even bite your fingers off if you crossed her hungry, so get your ass in here, Monk. You’re helping me make sloppy joes.”

Wordlessly, Zenyatta stepped into the kitchen just as Jack tied an apron around his middle. “Joe’s are easy to make and feed a lot of mouths. Brown the ground beef, after that, I’ll show you the secret to spices.” 

Zenyatta followed orders quickly, while Jack critiqued his form. As far as Zenyatta was concerned, it was the highest of compliments.


	4. The Human need to reproduce is very mammalian.

The best course of action, Genji decided after a night of drinking heavy liquor, was to ignore the problem until later. For once in his life, the mixture of whiskey, beer, and sake bombs did little to help him sleep. Instead, his mind stayed vigilant as he stared into the darkness. It was his second night apart from his master, and the natural ease of sleep eluded him more.

At promptly six, he worked his way out of the bed, showered, shaved, and dressed before recognizing that the ear-splitting, mind-numbing hangover he was accustomed to was barely a pulse behind his left temple.

"Thank the Iris for cybernetic metabolism and Advil," He grunted to no one as he swallowed two with the room temperature tea laid out by his bed by Last Night Genji.

"Agent Shimada," Athena's warm voice filled his quarters. One look at the clock told him that he might have risen with the sun, but he was now ten minutes late for his duties. "I have reviewed your sleep schedule and found that you did not reach REM sleep, is everything all right?"

Genji waved a hand and drank more of the tea, realizing that drunk Genji have over seeped the leaves, and it was now a bitter potion. "Fine, sorry. I'll be in the mess hall in five."

"Understood," The AI system answered. "I was quite worried you had come down with the same mysterious illness that AgenT McCree succumbed to this morning. I gather that is not the case?"

Genji winced at those words but smiled regardless. Of course, Athena would know what they were up to last night. "No, I am not ill. I think my cybernetics parts are just running a little slow this morning," he spoke the words without thinking. It had become his go-to response for any inconvenience he had. No one ever questioned a man who was half machine, either out of respect or pure ignorance.

Athena was not like that, though. For a moment, Genji stood in the silence of his room as he gathered his necessary items for the day ahead, then the AI spoke again. "I have an appointment with Dr. Ziegler scheduled for you in fifteen minutes."

"What? No! Cancel that!" He demanded — his face flushing red. 

"I am afraid that is outside of my protocol. I have instructions that any malfunction in your cybernetics should immediately be logged and reported to your physician for repairs-"

"That was five years ago!" Genji protested. "Back when I was in the intensive care unit! Not now!"

"I am sorry, Agent Shimada. My protocol-"

"Bullshit!" He snarled. "Damn your protocol!"

"Dr. Ziegler is expecting you in ten minutes."

Genji grumbled as many nasty things he could about the artificial intelligence care systems as he stormed out of his room, slamming the doors shut behind him. The headache behind his eyes pounded at the loud noise, and the sudden rise in aggression. 

He could have skipped out on it, he reasoned. It wasn't as if anyone here had any real authority to punish him for being tardy to work. But, his mind countered, if he were to avoid Angela, she would hunt him down like a bloodhound. Athena would have reported his comment on cybernetics. Hell, she probably recorded his voice and played it back for Dr. Ziegler.

It was Athena's way of punishing him for being an asshole.

The walk to the medical center was gloriously short. Angela was still working with the team to uncover and rejuvenate the old hospital wing, but that took time, effort, and, most importantly, money they did not have. Instead, the doctor had found a floor of the dormitories that was sanitary enough for her meticulous eye and set up a triage center.

"Hey, hey!" Lucio greeted him with a wave as Genji stepped out of the stairwell and onto the floor. 

He nodded a greeting back to the young medic. "Athena forced an appointment on me. Is Angela available?"

Lucio gave a wide, knowing grin. "Our angel of mercy just made it back from Agent McCree's quarters. Apparently, a localized stain of the flu affected just him last night." Lucio pulled out his datapad and swiped. "Damn, and now you have cybernetic problems? Must be rough." He gave Genji a wink and led him into the back. 

Angela's office was nothing more than a converted dorm room. The only difference there was a couch and wall of filing cabinets where a bed should be. He had once asked her the purpose of having all their records printed off in paper form when digitally, they were secure and safe inside Overwatch's database. At the time, she said it was for convenience. She could find things faster in a printed copy than on her datapad.

It wasn't until later, when he realized his file had mostly been redacted and deleted, that it was Angela's way of keeping her secrets safe. Overwatch high command did not need to know about every medical issue that affected its soldiers.

The files were smaller now. Most of the hard copies were destroyed in the fires after Overwatch's collapse, but the hard data remained. "Angie, yo!" he greeted as he plopped himself down onto her beige couch. He needed to act as if Athena had not forced him here, that this was a social call.

Angela gave him a look. She did not say anything as she pulled his thick file out and dramatically let it fall onto the desk with a loud 'thunk.' "Your cybernetics-" She started.

"I didn't sleep well," Genji interjected. "I was late, and Athena called on me. I blamed my cybernetics."

She pursed her lips as she tried not to smirk. "So, you lied."

"I fibbed," Genji nodded. "Because I thought if I blamed something I could easily fix on my own, I could avoid getting in trouble. Instead, I get the honor of sitting in the doctor's office, waiting for a rectal exam."

"Is your prostate acting up? I could quickly snap on a pair of gloves," This time she did smirk. She moved over and instead poured two cups of coffee before sitting next to him. "And the real issue?"

"I couldn't sleep last night. I knew Athena would send me here for sleep aids that I didn't need. I didn't want to worry you."

Angela laughed. "I figured as much. You haven't had any cause to see me since you've come back. I have missed our weekly meetings," She admitted.

"I have as well," Genji sighed. Cybernetic body parts were not unusual, especially to a woman who made a career out of rebuilding any member of the team who happened to lose a piece of themselves. Genji had been a particular case.

After months in the intensive care unit, Angela had become the beacon of light in his solitary world. Commander Reyes and Dr. Winston would talk to him, but always through a computer screen. His injuries had been extensive, and the threat of infection always seemed to loom on the horizon. Often, he worried that he would die in that white, sterile room. 

Then Angela would come flittering in like an angel. Unlike the other doctors, she never looked away from his scarred face. Angela was honest as well, with whatever arose. She spoke truthfully when the infections his still functioning limbs to became gangrenous. Dr. Ziegler explained every surgery and modification they did to his body, even to the point of asking for his opinions. And, true to her word, she would do her best to honor his requests.

Most of the time, the alterations were small. When Genji lost his eyesight due to hemorrhaging, she restored his sight and did her best to keep his eye color the same. Sure, it glowed a little red in the trial stages, but he was fine with it since it looked cool. She changed the backlighting to green after his last surgery. 

He had cried. Somehow, even remembering that green had been his favorite color was enough. Much like her call sign, she brought him mercy.

Angela reached over and took up his arm, turning it over in her hand and tracing along the seems of his prosthetic with a finger. He shivered at the soft touch.

"The Shambali gave you some very advanced upgrades," She mused.

He touched his fingers to his thumb in order, remembering the physical therapy exercises she had shown him. The cybernetic muscle under his mesh skin flexed as well. "To be fair, omnics understand my cybernetic parts more than anyone else I have ever met."

She flashed him a look, reminding Genji that the only reason he survived was due to her knowledge of the human body. 

He flexed his hand again, teasing.

"I was planning on complimenting you on your maturity and responsibility," She scoffed. "Mountain air has done wonders for your disposition. You seem healthier."

He shrugged, unsure of how to respond. His instinct was to make a snarky comment and push it aside, but he didn't. "I feel happier." He admitted.

"I am proud of your growth," Angela let his hand go and lifted his mug of coffee up, 

"The Shambali helped me put things into perspective. I had not considered before how they struggled with humanity, either. I have always been human, but they helped me understand my omnic side. My body is both. I am an omnic and a human and, in some ways, neither. Learning that and understanding that helped me find unity."

"And have you found enlightenment?" She teased.

Zenyatta flashed in his mind. "I am still on a journey, and-" He trailed off.

Angela scooted herself forward, looking at him. "How can I help? I may not have your answers, but you are my friend, Genji. I will always be here if you need me."

The words came tumbling out of his mouth freely as she spoke. He had not meant to confide in her so freely, but old habits were hard to kill, and Angela remained his loyal confessor. He spoke of the conversation with McCree and the questions he had posed. Did omnics experience physical intimacy? He knew omnics were capable of love, but how did two omnics share that intimacy? Since he was both an omnic and a man, what did that mean for him?

Angela listened. "Genji, I am a medical doctor, not a psychiatrist." she rested her hand on his knee and frowned. "Your questions are valid, and I can understand why you are struggling with them, but overall, I don't think I can answer them in a way you would find satisfactory."

Genji felt the slow burn of embarrassment on his cheeks. "Sorry about the word vomit," He laughed a little, his fingers finding the edges of the gray sweatshirt and fiddled with the fabric. "I honestly didn't mean for it to all come out in a rush like that. I just wasn't sure who to talk to about..." The words ended in a mumble on his lips. 

He was not sure exactly what he was asking of Angela. She felt more knowledgable than McCree and less intimidating than anyone else on base.

"Oh," Angela held onto the vowel of the word a long time as she nodded her head in understanding. "Genji, there is absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about." 

For a split second, he thought that he could relax once again. Then Angela continued. "You want to know more about sex." Before he could let out a distressed noise of protest, Angela had lept off of the couch and was back over at the stuffed bookcase. Her fingers read the spines of each thickly bound book before she decided on one and lifted it out. 

It fell on the table in front of him with a deafening thump. "Genji, I understand your concern over your ability to enact physical relationships, but I had no idea it was a subject you were still unaware of." She spoke fast and professionally as if he were a one-person lecture.

To anyone else, lecturing a man in his mid-thirties over sexual health and reproduction would have been n awkward experience. Angela, the researcher that she was, reveled in it. "Your body has been completely reworked from the core out, as you well know." Her datapad flashed to life as she swept her hand over the sensor, and a 3D image map of Genji appeared, rotating slowly on display. 

Genji wasn't sure if he was appalled or enthralled with the fully rendered nude form of his body on display. At least his ass and penis looked good.

"The goal of your surgeries were two-fold. First, our main objective was to preserve life and quality of life. That means we wanted to make sure that after it all, you still looked and felt as human as we could. We worked hard to clone organs and skin to use since rejection would be minimal on that point. After that, donations of tissues were utilized, and cybernetics whenever we were unsuccessful, or it was not possible."

It dawned on him. This was a lecture Angela had given before, in front of a room full of experts like herself. He could easily picture her at a podium with a room full of big-brained scientists all peering at his naked body in awe. No wonder she worked so hard to make sure his glutes looked as fantastic as it did. "You made me two inches taller."

"You asked to be two inches taller," she giggled. "Where was I? Oh, right. Your reproductive organs were left undamaged. You have a lingering scar here," she magnified the 3D model of Genji and turned the hologram to zoom in on a small linear scar along his groin.

She did not need to explain that scar to him. He remembered fondly the series of tubes inserted into the vein. 

"The human need to reproduce exists. At our core, we are social mammals. Your want for a physical connection with another person is part of what makes you human, Genji. There is nothing wrong with that. I can not speak for omnics as a whole, but the fact that the original omnic programming was to mimic human behaviors leads us to conclude that that part of your identity also wishes to forge bonds. You coming here and expressing your want for sex and sexual intimacy goes back to your process of healing."

He felt like dying. This was somehow worse than when Master Toshi, a man well into his seventies and the tutor for the Shimada heirs, sat both Genji and Hanzo down to instruct them on human reproduction and the body. The old man, with his wrinkled hands, demonstrating on a diagram the female body with incorrect and outdated methods to show the young heirs what they were to do if they ever encountered such a creature was mortifying but comical. 

Especially since Genji had already been sexually active with both men and women at that point in his life, and Hanzo was so gay that this was probably the first vagina he had ever seen.

Angela continued. It was almost as if she could not see the flickering of his eyes from the diagram of his own body to the door. It became worse when she started to speak of prophylactics, like Genji Shimada, rich playboy heir of the Shimada Clan, and world-known himbo was not well versed in condoms.

"-How man partners, if I may ask?"

He had missed the first part of her question. Angela sighed and repeated herself. "Since joining Overwatch, how many partners have you been sexually active with?"

Oh no, the questions could get worse. Genji's eyes darted to the clock, worrying that there was a plane somewhere she needed to catch and if it wasn't time she headed to the airport to get through baggage claim. 

She had pulled out a yellow legal notepad and was now taking notes. 

Fuck. 

Him. 

"Enough?" He answered with a shrug. He did not want to give her a substantial whole number. If he said too many, she would get that look on her face that showed obvious disapproval and go into a lecture on healthy sexual history and the dangers of unprotected sex. If he said too few, she would probably sign him up for therapy sessions as quickly as possible, since obviously, he was depressed. 

Lord, which agent on base would have been qualified to be their shrink if Angela considered herself unable to help? Not a single member of the group felt stable enough to give quality care.

What even was a reasonable number of partners? 

Angela nodded and changed tactics when he didn't answer. "How many partners have you shared an intimate relationship with?"

"Angie, isn't that the same thing?" He asked with a scoffing laugh. "I mean, sex is intimacy, and intimacy is sex. The only difference is vocabulary." 

Angela sat back, pondering the words he had said before she answered. "To me, sex and intimacy are two different variables. Most of the time, when I engage in intercourse, it is deeply intimate. I am not looking for a physical release with my partners but an emotional connection. Others only look for the physical side of things without the need for emotional support. Some people even look for just having that emotional connection with another person, and they do not want a physical relationship at all. There is no wrong way as long as both you and your partner are safe and communicate your wants."

Blackwatch and Overwatch had not lead to many sexual encounters. There were a few, a handful, where he felt that stronger emotional connection beyond a one-night-stand, but none had felt intimate in the way Angela had described it. Most of the time, sex had been something fast. It scratched an itch he and his partner had. Neither felt obligated to do more than exist for the other. Emotional venerability had been there, but it was not at the core.

"You know," Genji started. "I have been with both men and women," His thoughts felt long and rambling, like he knew what he wanted to say, but did not know where they would end up.

"I am aware," Angela said with a smile.

"I don't think I am more attracted to one sex over another," He continued. "I am more interested in a person's aura than their body."

Again, Angela nodded encouragingly. 

Genji's heart rose up, pounding in his throat. He thought he might vomit it up as he spoke next. "But what if that person isn't biological?"

"How do you mean?"

"What if," he swallowed. "What if I am attracted, sexually, to an omnic?" There. He said it. He vocalized it out loud where his ears could hear the words, and now they existed outside of his brain. They now belonged to the universe.

Next to him, Angela was looking down into the cup of coffee in her hands intensely. She had the look of a doctor trying to formulate their diagnosis.

"I am not an expert in omnic biology," She said. "But the fact is, omnics were not created to be sexual beings. Some have indeed assigned themselves genders, but overall that is not common, as you well know. Most omnics lack reproductive organs, even those who have assigned themselves a gender."

Genji looked down, suddenly feeling the pit grow inside his soul. It was as if a fissure had opened as Angela spoke and was now swallowing him whole. "I see," 

"Most omnics I have researched have self-described as asexual. They create deep, intimate bonds with humans and other omnics, but they do it without the need for what we would consider sex. The want for something deeper exists in both humans and omnics. Both experience intimacy in their own ways." 

"But what if I want more?" Genji felt himself blurting out. "What if I want intimacy?" He wanted to crawl out of the blackness inside him. He wanted to run screaming from the room and tear down the posters on the wall as if he were a child again throwing a tantrum. 

Angela sat back, her eyes wide and mouth hanging open in a small 'o' of surprise.

"Ever since this," He gestured down to his body. "I haven't felt like that mattered to me anymore. I thought all of that was behind me, but what if I want that? What if I want to make my own strong, intimate relationships?"

"Genji," Angela said his name softly, without fear or worry. She smiled. "You are allowed that. You have that. Intimacy is not always about romantic feelings. I, myself, have forged deep bonds with many members of our team. To me, the people here are my family. Overwatch has always been my family. I came back, not because of the work or the heroism, but because I needed to make sure my family was safe." She reached out and touched his hand. But you aren't the only intimate relationships that I have had. I love someone deeply who cannot be here, and I miss being able to speak to her all the time. I miss being able to touch her hand or hold her. And that is all right too." 

Genji laughed. His eyes burned, and he had to look away. "Relationships are hard," He settled on those words when the silence between them grew wider.

"Relationships are hard, especially when you have not had an excellent model of what a healthy relationship looks like. You get confused and turned around in your brain then." She looked at the clock and let out a long sigh.

It was almost time for her to leave.

"Before I go, Genji, can you tell me some healthy, intimate relationships you do have?"

He licked his dry lips and shrugged before answerings. Angela was probably the person he felt most comfortable sharing things with, as well as McCree. Both, he stated, he told very different secrets. 

Angela laughed at that. "Genji, I never want to hear about what men do when they think no one is looking. I am sure it sometimes involves firecrackers, alcohol, and very stupid dares of bravado."

"Hanzo," Genji added. "It is not strong right now, but Hanzo and I. We went through some stuff as kids, and we used to be close. I want that again."

Angela nodded encouragingly.

"Zen," He said finally. "I care about him. I know he cares about me." His words were abrupt, almost as if talking more about the monk would lead them down another long tangent, even if that is the only one he wanted to speak about.

Angela gave one final, knowing nod before she pushed herself to stand. "I think you are off to an excellent start, Genji. You know more than you think you do, and you are aware of your emotions, even if they feel confusing."

He laughed. "I thought you said you weren't a shrink."

"You know, sometimes when you have seen enough shrinks yourself, you pick up on some of their tricks." She leaned down and kissed his forehead briefly before she lifted her perfectly starched, beige bag over her shoulder. She paused at the door before turning to face him. "For a long time, I denied my feelings as well. I worried about so many things that felt important at the time, like work and distance, and the worry that we would ruin a friendship that we had already established." 

Genji nodded. He slowly rose from the couch and took up both coffee cups, dumping the cold liquid into the sink. "Okay," He answered.

"There are people on base that know much more about omnic society and culture than I do. I am a scientist; most of my knowledge comes from a cold, data-driven report. Talk to someone who understands them better than I do, because I am not perfect. Do not just listen to my opinion. My advice, not as your doctor or your psychiatrist, but as your friend, whatever fear that is holding you back is bullshit. You should go for it."

He laughed. "Fareeha is teaching you such improper language, Doctor."

"She is teaching me all sorts of fun things I can do with my mouth." Angela gave him a quick wink and disappeared.

_________

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Zenyatta said weakly from behind the wooden podium. In front of him, the hot spotlights blinded him from the rest of the auditorium. It was good, he reasoned, that he did not know how many were in attendance since even know he could feel the quaking in his knees. 

"Oh," He grumbled and looked down at the notecards in his hands. "How does that sound? I feel it is trite."

Seated in the front row sat his lone audience member. Reinhardt gave a full shrug. "Sounds fairly straight-forward to me--A standard opening statement." 

Zenyatta sighed. "But there will not be just ladies or gentlemen. There will also be omnics. And how am Ito judge on if a person is non-binary?" Most people would not have assumed that an omnic would have a fear of public speaking, especially one like Zenyatta, who was used to sermonizing.

But he was used to small, intimate gatherings of people he considered friends. This was monumental. The scientific community was gathering for peacekeeping talks of ways to better the world through technology. The only technology Zenyatta possessed was in his hardware. He knew no more about engineering than Reinhardt did about biology.

"I think you are overthinking it," Reinhardt said. 

Zenyatta picked up the pencil on the podium and began to scribble. "Is there a better phrasing than ladies and gentlemen?"

"Guys, gals and pals?" Reinhardt said with another shrug, "They-dies and Gentle-thems? I don't think anyone here will focus on your salutation." He climbed up the short steps to the left of the stage and over to Zenyatta. "I think it is time for a break."

Reinhardt had drawn the short straw when it came to bodyguard duty. At least, that is how it felt when he watched Jack assign roles. Initially, he had asked Lena to shadow Zenyatta as he walked around the convention center, but the pilot seemed reluctant. Not that Zenyatta could blame her anxiety. The last time she had felt in charge of an omnic's safety, Talon had bested her.

In reality, Zenyatta had never blamed Lena. How could he? She had done everything in her power to stop the assassination of Mondatta. The only one he blamed was the terrorists themselves.

Zenyatta nodded in agreement. "how does one settle their nerves?" He asked the larger man as he carefully clipped the notecards together and put them away in his side bag. 

Reinhardt laughed jubilantly. "Beer," he stated, "I doubt that will help you at all, my friend."

Zenyatta laughed in return, shaking his head. To be fair, his mind reasoned, dousing his motherboard with liquid would quell any anxieties he had. Sure, it would have short-circuited his systems, but that would be someone else's problem.

"Maybe talking?" Reinhardt smiled. "Hearing stories of valor always gets my blood pumping." He smacked his large hand into his fist, almost as if stories of valor all included dramatic actions to go along with his tales.

It was intriguing, and Reinhardt was quite the weaver of a fable. "My friend, we should get you a beer and a tale then." Zenyatta hummed.

Reinhardt's face fell, "No beer. Jack was quite adamant that we should all be on the lookout for any signs of Talon."

"Non-alcoholic beer, then?"

The bruiser looked appalled as if Zenyatta had suggested instead that they kick puppies off the roof. "Never shall that liquid pass over these lips. I would rather gargle dirt water."

Zenyatta could not help but laugh again. 

All around them, dignitaries from around the world were beginning to converge in the center. Well dressed people in formal suits and robes, each one looking more elegant than the last wandered around the hotel. Comparatively, he and Reinhardt seemed too casual. Worry sprouted in his mind. Maybe his formal robes were not good enough. The last thing he wanted to do was make a fool of himself, the Shambali, or worse, Dr. Ziegler.

Reinhardt seemed to be aware of it, as well. The man stood a good head and shoulders taller than everyone else. He rolled his shoulders forward and hunched down, trying to make himself appear less threatening. 

"We should at least seek lunch," Zenyatta stated. "It is well past one in the afternoon, and you have not eaten since breakfast." 

Reinhardt's stomach growled his answer. The man barked out another laugh as they rounded the corner and headed back to the hotel's attached restaurant. The host seated them at a hightop table near the back.

"It feels good," Reinhart states once his food had been ordered. Zenyatta politely asked for a glass of water even though he did not need it. It felt rude to sit there.

Zenyatta inclined is head. "What feels good?"

"Being on a mission," He answered. "Retirement bever suited me. I tried settling down. It did not work. Doing this is so much more enjoyable, even if there is no fight."

"I feel inclined to apologize for being frightfully dull then."

He waved it off with a large hand, "All is well. Even mundane jobs have a purpose. It is better than sitting around and watching life happen in front of you."

"You must be full of stories then," Zenyatta hummed and twirled the straw of his cup lazily, watching the ice cubes twirl. 

"I have hundreds of them," Reinhardt smiled. "No enemy stood a chance when they were in my way. I always led the cavalry charge. I was too honest for the information gathering work, and there was no way I could be like our ninja friend and sneak into any place. I was left with all the jobs that needed a face and needed a strong hand."

"I take it Genji was reduced to his ninja skills then? He often spoke about working for Blackwatch and Overwatch, but always failed to communicate the jobs he was assigned."

Reinhardt nodded at that. "That does not surprise me. More often than not, those Blackwatch operations were dark. Covert assassinations or infiltrating. Gabriel was my friend, but when I heard about all the things he was mixed up with, I can't say I was shocked."

"Agent Morrison seemed shocked."

Reinhardt scoffed. For the first time, Zenyatta watched a shadow grow over the man's face. Age set into him. "That is because Commander Morrison still holds a candle for Reyes. Loved him then, still loves him now. It was the worst kept secret on base. You didn't hear it from me, but I think Jack still believes that he can save Gabriel. It is foolish, but I want to believe he will, too."

"Hope is a powerful thing."

"If you had asked me a year ago what I thought, I would have called it a fool's mission. Gabriel is either evil or brainwashed or both, I can not tell."

"But now?"

Reinhardt laughed again, but it was not the same boastful roar that turned heads. His shoulders sank as the low laugh rumbled out of him. "Now, I have seen one of the most broken people I have ever met transformed."

"You speak of Genji," Zenyatta stated quietly. 

Reinhardt blinked as if surprised this revelation was puzzled together. "Genji? Oh, yes." He nodded. "I remember him, skulking around the halls like a feral cat. Genji was a strange half-creature then. He would not let anyone near to him without risk of getting his claws."

"I know very little about Genji from before he came to us in Nepal," Zenyatta admitted. "He came to us already in the process of healing. His wounds had scarred over, and he was seeking something to help soothe his soul."

"We never went on missions together, what with him being a secret agent and all that. By the time Blackwatch crumbled, and he transferred over, I had already retired and was back in my homeland. I only knew him through McCree."

"I thought Agent McCree was also Blackwatch."

"Ack," Reinhardt waved his hand again. "Where Genji was the team's feral cat, McCree was like the Overwatch's puppy. He was Reyes' protegee, but he was also Jack's favorite as well. Ana practically adopted the boy Day One. McCree was the first person to befriend Genji back then."

It was like a shock of electricity shot up Zenyatta's spine. He shivered slightly. "Genji speaks highly of Agent McCree. After meeting the man in person, I can understand why."

"Ja, Jesse became like a brother to our cyborg. It was easy to see that he was desperate for a connection. As time went on, we began to see these little flickers of light of Genji's true personality. When he did not think anyone was looking, or when he seemed to forget himself, Genji would start to tease and pull pranks. I was happy to see it. No one should feel that alone in the world."

Zenyatta felt another slow tendril of electricity. It was as if someone was standing behind him, slowly caressing the sensitive wires in his back with their fingers. He wiggled slightly, trying to get the unseen force to touch to disappear. Had he not discharged enough last night? He might have had a slight malfunction, and there was a simple leak somewhere in his internal coding. 

He looked at the man seated across from him and pondered the most polite way to excuse himself when the waitress returned with their order. She set what appeared to be a mountain of food in front of Reinhardt.

The German soldier thanked her profusely for his food before turning back. "Genji is different now, He said without any prompting. "He smiles more, and there is this spark in him that was never there before. I don't know what you or your people did to him, but whatever it was worked."

"Thank you," Zenyatta said, his mind everywhere else but on the man in front of him. He could feel his internal core heating up. 

Vibrating.

"It took Genji a long time to realize that he was not just a weapon for Overwatch to use. I don't know what his family did to him back then, but I think that clan had a lot to do with it. Hanzo acts a lot like how Genji did when he first came."

The mention of the other Shimada shot Zenyatta's attention right back to the man in front of him. "Really?"

"Mmm," Reinhardt nodded around a mouthful of food. He swallowed. "Hanzo acts very similarly to his brother. He also has a way of seeing himself as nothing more than an asset to the team, but I can see McCree is using that cowboy magic of his on this brother too." He winked.

Zenyatta folded his hands in front of him and tried to focus on counting the number of noodles on Reinhardt's plate, or how many pieces of ice were in the glass. The sensation rolling through his body was far from unpleasant.

"And Angela!" Reinhardt continued, though by now, Zenyatta was finding it difficult to concentrate, despite how much he wanted to hear more.

Zenyatta excused himself. He gave a flimsy excuse as he pushed back from the table and sped out of the restaurant. Later on, he would need to figure out a way to make it up to the larger man, but his thoughts were becoming less than pure as ecstasy rolled down his spine and through his body.

Someone was touching him with the soft caress of a lover. He could feel phantom fingers brushing lightly over him as he punched the button for the elevator and waited an eternity.

His internal fans began to whir, trying to cool his overheating system. Some external force was affecting him. He could feel that touch, those fingers as clearly as if the form were standing in front of him and caressing him.

Where was that elevator? He slammed the button again. The elevator dinged, and the door slid open slowly as if it hated him and wanted him to suffer more publicly. Zenyatta shot inside pressed the floor. The door dinged again and slid shut. 

He was alone.

Privacy made the feelings going through him no less thrilling. He wanted to be horrified by it all, but he wasn't. 

Instead, he felt an exhilarating thrill as those phantom fingers fondled his inner workings. He focused on the sensation. It was not as if he could point to a part of his body to identify where the hands were. It was more of a sense. He knew this phantom was tracing along his seams with the soft touch of a lover. There was no hesitation in his caress.

Zenyatta's hands clenched at his sides. He suppressed the desire to pull apart his frame and touch his most sensitive areas. He needed something more. He needed something that was not about expelling energy but giving pleasure. It was not about scratching that itch inside of him. This was something more sensual. This was something more primal in his coding and his mainframe.

This was carnal.

He was an omnic constructed after the omnic crisis. He was of the first generation of beings built, not for human toil and capitalism. He was created to be his own creature. He was made to feel things.

Desire was not an emotion that he often confronted with this intensity. Desire and passion were something he scheduled into his day. It never before was this hunger that raged through him. He wanted to touch himself more, needed to feel himself more.

The fact that he was going out of his mind in a public space was just the sweet frosting on this delectable cake. He had always been the good, dutiful monk, but still in the back of his mind lingered those darker thoughts and desired. He could reach into his core and begin to stroke along the sensitive red wires within and let that electricity shoot through his being. 

But where was it coming from? Who was touching him? How?

The elevator slowed, and the doors swung open onto his floor with a chime. 

It dawned on him.

His orbs. They were as connected to his body as his arms. They were a part of him. Naturally, he could react to any sensation imposed on them.

Usually, their sensors were set at a low frequency, allowing him to control their magnetic force to his body and will enable them to hover and revolve around him as he will. They had sensors and nodules, as did every other part of him, so he could register their location without needing to see where they were. He had never factored distance into how they would react. 

Another jolt of pleasure rolled through him as he sped into the empty hotel. Quickly, he pulled out his datapad and sent a message to Reinhardt, stating he felt a malfunction that needed an immediate response, but not to worry, he was back in his room and taking care of the situation.

It was Genji. 

It had to be Genji. There was no other explanation. He could picture it now, Genji sitting alone in his quarters. His student would think nothing of it as he fondled Zenyattas ball in his warm hands.

And how Zenyatta loved those nimble fingers. He had often imagined his student's hands on him, touching and teasing him. He needed more.

Zenyatta made sure the door was locked before he settled himself in a meditative pose. He needed to quell these urges before they got away from him. He required so much more than just a light touch over his frame. He wanted to feel Genji everywhere.

He needed to feel Genji's touch inside him.

It was impure, he knew. Genji had come to him like a bird with a broken wing. He had only wanted to help the man reclaim a piece of himself.

But Genji was beautiful. He had always been fascinating to Zenyatta. Was it so bad he wished to have the other with him in every sense of the word? Was it so wrong to have these impure thoughts?

Fingers, his fingers tickled along the sensitive wires that lived deep inside. They ignited him. He climbed higher and higher, his body alive and writhing against the sheets. It had been so long. It felt so right.

How could this be wrong?

________

Zenyatta's orb glowed in Genji's hand. Yellow lights, like the Iris, shined and bathed Genji in its warm light. It soothed Genji's soul.

It had started as absentminded fidgeting. Genji had wanted to hold onto a simple piece of his master as he sat in his room and contemplated what Angela had told him. 

He wanted sex.

He also wanted Zenyatta.

He wondered if it were possible that he could have both. Fingers traced along the indentation in the brass. It vibrated warmly in his hands, and, for a moment, the golden light made him feel like he was home. 

He looked at the datapad next to him. He called his master. For a moment, just a moment, he could hear his voice, and everything would feel right again.

"Genji?" Zenyatta sounded breathless. Panic rose through Genji. Zenyatta did not have the breath to sound breathless. 

"Master, is something wrong?" He blurted out.

There was a pause and then, a long low sigh from Zenyatta. The orb in Genji's hand settled into a gentle hum. "What is that?" Zenyatta asked. His voice sounded even again.

"Are you well, Master?" Genji asked again. "You sound-"

"Oh. Just fine," Zenyatta chuckled. "You caught me unexpected. I was not expecting a call from you. That is all."

Genji relaxed. "Can I see you?" He asked.

There was another pause, slightly longer this time, before Zenyatta's form appeared on the datapad. He was against the white wall of his hotel room. He seemed safe. "Genji..." Zenyatta started, then trailed off. His master's gaze seemed to linger at the orb in his hand.

Genji laughed and set it aside. "Sorry, Zen. I just...I missed having you around." He quickly changed the subject, terrified this would turn into a confession of love if he didn't "So, what are you up to?"

"Speech," Zenyatta answered quickly. He moved out of view for a split second and lifted his notecard into view. "I found myself worrying over semantics, then Reinhardt suggested we get lunch and..." The monk trailed off. "Then I came back here to...rest."

"Semantics?" Genji asked. "Like, what?"

"It is nothing, only my foolishness. I am not happy with my greeting." Zenyatta sighed heavily, a feat for someone who did not breathe. "I find myself struggling with words that would sound enlightened in front of a community of Dr. Ziegler's peers."

Genji smiled. "You don't want to call them ladies and gentlemen, do you?" 

When Zenyatta scratched at his head, Genji knew he hit the nail on the head. The monk was sometimes so easy to read. "Do you want me to listen? I'm only a pretty face, but you know how I like your voice." 

He flashed his award-winning smile, knowing that he was bordering the realm of flirting. He couldn't have cared. What he wanted was good. It was right. 

And maybe if Zenyatta were to figure out on his own that Genji possessed feeling for him, it would be on Zenyatta to take the next step. 

"You are more than a pretty face, Sparrow," Zenyatta stated. "You also have, what did you call it, rock hard abs and ass made of steel?"

"An ass you could bounce a quarter off of," Genji corrected. He settled himself in and listened as Zenyatta spoke. The message was one he had heard before. Listening to the cadence of Zenyatta's voice and the rhythm of his words felt like music to his soul. Genji could drift anywhere that voice asked him to go.

"Well?" Zenyatta asked once he reached the end. "What do you think?"

Genji opened his eyes, not realizing he had closed them. He thought he wanted to reach through the computer screen and kiss him. He wanted to press himself against Zenyatta's side and show him how much he loved him. How much he ached when the other was away. 

Instead, Genji smiled. "I think you will impress them all, Zen."

"Did I impress you?"

"Always."


	5. Protect yourself from Robo-Pregnancy

Zenyatta had stayed on the phone with Genji for well over an hour. He felt no magical pulse of love shoot through him. The earth did not move, and the stars never aligned. Instead, everything stayed just the way it had always been.

Genji left his quarters with more energy. Worry still nagged at the back of his mind, but it felt less like an oppressive force that straddled his back and more like an annoying small dog on a leash. He could tether and claim this worry.

His master was a non-sexual being, that was all there was to it. Zenyatta never shared his bed with anyone. Well, Genji had stayed with him, but that hardly counted. And, it may well be that Zenyatta was never going to be interested in Genji romantically, but they still had a bond that transcended the ordinary.

It would have to be enough.

And Genji reasoned that he tended to lose interest in the people he slept with after he slept with them. He didn't want a similar fate befalling Zenyatta. He wanted their relationship to have more meaning.

Overall, when it came right to it, they were too different. It had to be that way.

Genji grabbed a clipboard that hung next to the warehouse's door as he entered, looking over the day's work and who had been assigned what chores. 

Winston must have expected that with six members of the team away, most of the non-essential work would only get half done, especially since he had scheduled himself to work in the labs. Supervision of the warehouse had fallen onto Genji and McCree's shoulders, being the two most senior members of the team scheduled. 

His eyes scanned down the list for where everyone else would be that morning. Winston was with his hamster buddy in the lab, Bastion was in the garage with Torbjorn, the two Aussies were out, tending to the gardens, and Ana sat in the Watchpoint Command, searching for any security breaches. That left Genji in charge of the three youngest members of Overwatch in the warehouse. 

Lucio, Hana, and Brigette were exceptional, hard workers when it came down to it. He would have been thrilled to share any mission with them at any time. Warehouse work was different, though. Sorting and cataloging resources, as well as shuffling around inventory, felt like hell. 

With Reinhardt gone, most of the heavy lifting work would fall onto his paladin to complete. Hana naturally would help as well in her mech suit, while Lucio advised where the large loads would go. Genji would have been there to make sure that things were operating smoothly, as well as delegate which inventory took priority.

That is how it would have gone if Jack was still on base. He may not have been the Strike Commander anymore, but damn if the man still acted as if he ran this organization. With the old dogs out in the field, Genji doubted that anyone would complete work today.

He rounded a stack of shelving and found the trio exactly where he thought they would be; seated around a small portable cooler with their datapads in hand.

"Yo," He called out with a wave. If he had been Morrison or even McCree, the pair would have shot up out of their seats and would have had the decency to look remorseful for their actions.

Instead, Lucio smiled wide and held up a cold soda. "My man!" He nodded.

"I thought you were supposed to be out medic with Angela out," Genji reached out and took the soda, turning it over. He looked slyly to the other cans, inspecting them as well. The drinks all appeared to be carbonated colas, as well.

Lucio shrugged. "I'm on call, just in case someone gets a papercut." The young revolutionary leaned back and lifted his holopad back up.

"Pfft," Hana sneered, and as she watched Genji with those sharp eyes. "It's just sugar and water, old man. What'd you think, a bunch of underage kids must be sneaking beers?"

It's what he would have done. "Let's just say I was relying on my own experiences," He smiled. "A bunch of no-good young adults just hanging around. You must be getting drunk and smoking weed."

"No, no," Brigitte waved him off. "That would just be reckless."

"Irresponsible," Hana nodded. "I mean, this place is just begging for an accident. Plus, I am sure I would get tetanus if I scraped myself in here-"

"And I'm on call," Lucio interjected.

"And Luci's on call," Hana echoed. She leaned back, and Lucio scooped her into his arms, pulling her in close, before giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

Brigette laughed and looked over. "We were just waiting in here for someone to show up and tell us what do do." 

"Hey!" Hana reached over with her foot and kicked playfully at Brigitte's knee. "Don't go filling his head with ideas of work! Genji's one of us! He is a natural slacker."

"I take offense!" Genji gasped, pressing his hand to his chest. "Never in my life have I ever tried to skip out on hard work. The very idea!"

Brigitte caught Hana's foot in her hand as the small mech pilot kicked out at her again. She held on and placed it in her lap, leaving Hana to almost lay across the floor of the warehouse. Hana's head and arms were still propped up on Lucio while her legs draped awkwardly with Brigitte. The pair giggled and held onto her.

Genji watched with amusement at the little flirting jabs the trio gave to one another. Despite all coming from wildly different backgrounds, he could see how each one complimented the other. He would never have thought of the three of them joining up so quickly, but now they were almost inseparable.

It was adorable.

Lucio looked up at Genji, purposely ignoring the squeal Hana gave as Brigitte tickled at the back of her knee. She thrashed in his arms, and he held firm, making sure she was unable to stop the other woman. "How are you holding up, Man?" 

"Holding up?" Genji blinked, turning his focus away from the flirting.

"You know, with your cybernetics being on the fritz?" Lucio shook his head and scooted closer to Brigitte, lifting Hana slightly to give her better leverage. His arms wrapped around her middle and kept her close, not that Hana was showing any signs of wanting to leave his side.

Brigitte stopped her playful tickling of Hana and looked up at Genji with alarm. "You what?"

"Are you okay?" Hana sat up straighter.

Their immediate concern warmed Genji's heart as he waved it away. "Angela got me all fixed up this morning." He waved it off.

Hana still did not look satisfied with his response. "Is it because Zenyatta isn't here?"

"No!" Genji answered. It was a bit too quick, it seemed, as Hana smiled wickedly.

"Don't tease him," Brigitte chastised. She held onto Hana's foot and swayed it back and forth. 

Genji felt an ache inside him at their antics. They were genuinely adorable, the way they teased and bickered with each other, as young couples did. There was no malice or heat behind their words or actions, just that sweet, playful ribbing that came with wanting the other's attention. 

Hana scoffed again, rolling her eyes as she settled into Lucio and looked up at him with those big doe eyes. "I wasn't teasing. You said it yourself, Genji seems withdrawn without Zen here. I was pointing out-"

"Is it that obvious?" Genji winced. "I have lost my touch, haven't I?"

"You've got it bad," Brigitte nodded. "It is like watching a sad puppy waiting for his human to come home. Buck up! It's only a few days, and then you can wag your little tail, and everything will be right as rain." She sounded exactly like Reinhardt. It was adorable.

Their relationship was unconventional, but Genji could see how compatible all three of them wore together. But conventional was something that happened rarely. Morrison and Reyes, for example, tip-toed around their relationship for years. Everyone assumed they were together years before anything official came.

Unconventional worked for them, maybe it could work for him as well. 

"Aw, look, he's pining again," Hana giggled and reached forward, poking Genji on the nose. "Earth to Genji, are you there?"

Genji blinked several times before. "Knock it off! I'm being introspective."

"That's code for pining for his boyfriend," Brigitte teased.

For the second time in two days, someone mistook Zenyatta as his boyfriend. Genji felt his heart pound in his chest. His throat tightened as Hana giggled at the comment. He did not correct them, though. 

Let them think they were a couple, he reasoned. 

"It's cute," Lucio smiled. "Back home, there was this adorable omnic couple. They would hold hands as they walked to the market every morning. It was seriously the sweetest thing I ever saw."

Omnic couple.

Genji looked down at his hands and felt the sigh rise inside his chest. He tempered it back down. Genji was still mostly human-partially human. At least, part of him was still human.

"You know," Hana's voice flowed through his thoughts. "When I was a kid, I always thought that there were baby omnics, you know, like how there were baby humans." She giggled.

"Me too!" Brigitte smiled. "In Papa's workshop, he would show me the little tiny omnics he had working in there and tell me they were just babies, and if I fed them enough scrap metal, they would grow into big and strong Bastion units."

Was that what they thought of him? Was he more omnic than a man to his friends? His chest tightened at the thought. Overwatch used him as a database for his knowledge of Eastern Asia's criminal scene, and Blackwatch used him as a weapon. He had just been a tool before. He was nothing more than something that they could use and put away.

Hana poked Genji's knee with a foot. "What do you think, Green Goblin, do you ever think to yourself 'Better use a condom, so I don't make Zen Robo-pregnant and make some Robo-babies'?" 

They laugh. Genji laughed with them. He didn't feel like laughing, but at the moment, it felt appropriate.

"We're teasing you," Lucio smiled. "Really. You and Zen are peak couple goals. Really. Just seeing you both together is like, you know you both are so perfect together. Not everyone can say they are soulmates with their best friend."

"Hey!" Hana and Brigitte laughed in unison. 

Their voices sounded far away. Genji could feel the sweat dripping down his back as his chest tightened. "Yeah," He managed. "You know, it's just-"

"It's compatibility," Lucio continued, hugging Hana to him closer. "That is the key to a good relationship, you know? Just knowing that you fit together so well and not worrying about anything past that."

His vision tunneled as he looked up at the neverending rows of the warehouse. Genji felt as if he would suffocate. The air tasted stale and sat heavily on his tongue. "Look, I have some other things I have to go do," He motioned behind him as he scrambled to get his legs to work under him. "Keep busy. Be safe."

Genji turned and fled before any of them could say something or try to stop him, not that they tried. Behind him, Hana made another comment at his retreating back while the other two laughed. 

It wasn't malice. It wasn't ignorance. The three of them meant no harm, Genji knew. But something in their words meant they thought he and Zenyatta were perfect together and that they were romantically linked.

How was it everyone on the team could see them in such a way, but he couldn't? 

The fresh air felt good on his skin as he walked along the outer paths back to the main building. Everything in his mind felt so jumbled up like he could not keep a thought in his head for more than a moment before it settled into his unconscious and festered like an open wound.

If only Angela could amputate parts of his mind.

__________

"Esteemed members of the scientific community," Zenyatta's hands gripped tight to the sides of the podium as he spoke. Brilliant white lights focused on him obstructed the nearly packed auditorium from his view. He didn't know if that made it better or worse.

Reinhardt had come to collect him when it was his time to speak. Lena had scoped out the theater beforehand and said it had been nearly empty twenty minutes before he spoke. Apparently, in the big ballroom, Dr. de Kuiper was presenting his theory on gravitational anomalies and how to harness it for clean energy.

The idea of a smaller crowd had settled Zenyatta's fraying nerves.

Masturbating to the thought of Genji's hands inside him and stroking his wires had helped as well.

But as he stepped on stage, he found that the small crowd Lena had spoken of ballooned. Around him, people were seated in the aisles with tape recorders at the ready to capture his every word. The back wall was nothing but a sea of unknown faces. They all watched him expectantly.

Expecting Mondatta.

What a disappointment he would be.

He speaks on autopilot, his eyes barely glancing at the notecards clutched in his hands. Remember to speak slowly, he told himself after every sentence. He could not gauge the audience's reaction in the blinding white light. Was he even doing well?

"Thank you, and have a good evening."

The words left his mouth before he realized he had finished saying everything that he had written down, and the next second, the room filled with the roar of the audience's applause. He stood there a moment, watching as the people stood. He had assumed it was to leave until no one made a step, and the sound of the accolades continued.

Zenyatta looked to the side, where Lena stood off stage, unsure if he was to exit now, while people were still clapping, or if it was polite to walk away.

Lena stepped onto the stage, clapping herself and shuffled in front of the microphone. "We give our thanks to the Shambali, and Zenyatta for taking time out of his busy schedule to come to speak to us today." At her words, the people began to shuffle towards the exit, and the praise slowly simmered into nothingness.

She took Zenyatta's arm and led him off stage. "You were magnificent!" She beamed. "Tell me the truth, how much did you hate it?"

"I do not understand how my brother could find such things exhilarating," Zenyatta confessed. He could still feel his knees trembling. 

Backstage was a whirl of activity. Men and women from the hotel raced along the corridors with refreshments for each of the panel rooms. Zenyatta found a chair and plopped down in it. He felt overdressed in his ornamental orange and yellow robes. He felt the fool.

Lena leaned against the wall and let out a long breath of air. "Well, I saw him speak twice." She looked down at her long fingers. "I don't get it myself. Of course, the biggest crowd I ever spoke to was a group of trainee pilots I was teaching. I think there were seven of them?"

Zenyatta chuckled. "Mostly, I am happy it is over."

"And you conquered a fear." Lena nodded once. "And now you know the next time will be easier."

Zenyatta reclined back in the chair and gazed at the tiled ceiling overhead. He was thankful she brought him this way, through the back end and into the staff hallways, where the thrums of people could not find him. 

"You know, Jack is anxious," Lena's tone shifted, and her eyes moved down to her feet. "Angela is on her way, and everything is going off without a hitch, but Jack still believes there is a strong possibility of Talon attacking."

Zenyatta watched as she shuffled her feet and neared him. "Oh?"

"I was planning on asking Emily to come to meet us here. We could spend a few days here while you and Angela stood around with these fuddy-duddies. I thought it would be cute, you know? A little romantic weekend while working, then Jack…" She trailed away. 

"Then Jack?" Zenyatta probed.

Lena ground her toe into the floor as she frowned. It was as if speaking out against her mentor went against her moral code. "Then, Jack mentioned that security was light at the event, and it would be just like the Reaper to show up at a place meant to promote peace and wellbeing with guns and death."

"So, you disinvited her?"

Lena nodded. "I just...I couldn't stand the idea of bringing her here if there was even the possibility of bloodshed. If anything happened to Emily...if I was the one responsible…"

"You care about her deeply." Zenyatta reached out and touched her hand with his. Lena smiled and turned her palm. She squeezed his hand back. "That is commendable. I am sure she understands."

Lena nodded. "I've called to talk to her several times already. She worries whenever I'm in the field."

Zenyatta pulled, and Lena walked to him and sat in the chair beside him. "Why don't you tell me more about her? How did you meet? What does Emily do for a living."

Lena brightened. She pulled out her phone and began to swipe through pictures of the two of them together. Emily, it turned out, worked at a local animal rescue and rehabilitation center where she took wildlife that could not be reintroduced and used them to teach small children about conservation. He watched as photos of Emily, dressed in khaki pants and shirt, stood in front of a group of small children with a baby skunk. 

"You know, we were best friends before we got together," Lena spoke with a dreaminess to her voice as she continued to flaunt pictures of herself and Emily together. "I guess we are still best friends. I don't think I could ever find anyone who understands me as well as she does. Emily gets me."

A picture flashed of a past Christmas. Lena and Emily were cuddled together on the couch with paper hats on their heads. Winston sat near them with a cup of cocoa in his hands. Beside them, the tree glowed in a rainbow of colors. All three were smiling up at the camera. Lena lingered on the photo for a while, smiling. 

"We met and hung out with this big group of friends, yeah?" Lena continued. "It was great, but life happened, and slowly, everyone moved on and had other things to do, so it was harder and harder to get together. I always made time for Emily, though. I knew right away that she was the one for me."

"How did you know?" Zenyatta asked. Another picture appeared. This one was of the girls sitting on the beach with a giant sandcastle in front of them. Lena was already red from the sun while Emily's freckles seemed intensified from the exposure. "How did you know she was the one?"

Lena shrugged. "Just knew. See, back then, I didn't know if Emily knew I was interested in girls. And I know I didn't know that Emily was also into girls, so it was like months of literal pining because we were just two dumb lesbians that were totally in love and didn't know it."

Zenyatta laughed. "How did you realize it?"

"It was our mutual buddy David," Lena smiled. "One magical night, David called me Emily's girlfriend, and it all kind of fell into place." She shrugged. "We just looked at one another, and that was that." She laughed.

"That was that," Zenyatta repeated with a hum. "And you were just a couple?"

"To be honest, there was a fair amount of alcohol that night as well," Lena laughed, and her cheeks pinkened. "Alcohol helped us solidify our relationship that night."

It was Zenyatta's turn to laugh as a photo of Lena and Emily dressed all in black with cat ears appeared with a cat whisker filter over the top. They both had their claws out and looked to be hissing. "Alcohol seems to be quite the matchmaker, I suppose."

"Well, I mean," Lena fumbled with her phone as a photo of Emily that was not meant for his sight appeared. "It must have been similar for you and Genji, yeah? Minus the alcohol and the years of pining, of course."

"What?" 

"Oh, you know," She laughed and rose to her feet, nervously stretching her hands up over the top of her head. "It had to be like a storybook."

"I'm afraid I do not understand," Zenyatta interjected. He stood up.

"You know," Lena nudged him playfully. "Sweet Genji comes to you in his hour of need. He is this broken man looking for redemption and a purpose. You are this kindly monk that takes him in and soothes his aching soul." She smiled at Zenyatta, hopefully.

In his mind, Zenyatta had never thought of their relationship in those terms. "There was a lot more to it than just soothing Genji's soul."

"I know," Lena rolled back onto her heels. "I remember Genji before he left Overwatch for good. He had this devil-may-care attitude about life back then. He acted as if he was indestructible, that nothing or no one could hurt him. I watched as he threw himself out of my plane once and into a swarm of Null-Sector Omnics. He was a complete daredevil."

Zenyatta hummed in response, remembering the way Genji had been when he first came.

"But he mellowed out, you know? I guess being in love does that to a man, you know?" She looped her arm around Zenyattas and spun him around. "But for now, I guess it's time we go out and mingle with your adoring fans."

Zenyatta followed in silence. Genji had changed, that was certain. Maybe Lena was right, as well. Perhaps they had been teetering on the edge of friendship and something different for a long time now. Perhaps it was time for something new.

It wasn't enough, just being Genji's mentor and friend. Zenyatta wanted to topple over.

________

Genji ran two hands down his face as he breathed in the sea air. His short walk to the main house had turned into a more extended trip around the bases and to the greenhouse. He craved the heat and humidity. Being surrounded by lush plants didn't hurt either. 

It took well over an hour to calm himself down to the point where he felt confident of returning to base, but still, he lingered. Bastion could usually be found skulking around the outskirts of the base, sitting in nature, and basking in the serenity of it.

He also liked the chickens.

Genji found himself drawn to the white hens as well. They were something he was still totally unaccustomed too, and thus a novelty. Shimada Castle was not a place for pets, and the harsh winters of Nepal made anything as delicate as chickens hard to farm way up on the hilltops.

They were Mako's pets. The psychopath had brought them along when he and Jamison recruited themselves to Overwatch. They had intercepted Winston's signal and appeared at Overwatch's gates one morning. Winston hadn't the heart, nor the guts, to turn the pair away.

At the time, everyone was sure their meeting would end in a bloodbath, only to be pleasantly surprised. Jamison acted a little nutty at times, but with time, his social skills improved considerably. Mako genuinely seemed eager to help out, supplying the team often with eggs from his chickens and vegetables from his gardens.

The pair remained secretive and quiet, but Genji had an inkling that Mako did not want to be the juggernaut of the outback. If it were up to him, the man would have settled contently as a farmer.

Often, Jack would be found out here, waxing poetic about the family farm in Indiana. Mako would hum and nod along, before asking a question about soil that Genji could not understand.

Genji leaned against the post of the chicken wire fence and watched as the dozen white hens clucked and waddled along inside. 

"What cho' business here?" An obstructed voice called out to him. Genji turned and saw Jamison, dressed in a work shirt and pants, seated on the ground with a pair of wire cutters in his mouth. In his mechanical hand was a string of new wire he tied around a post.

Genji gave him a slight wave and moved over. Jamison was still unsure of the cyborg overall. While Genji was human, Jamison worried whenever he was near. Genji was not sure what happened to the man that led him to hate omnics so much, but he figured it was best not to aggravate him further. 

"Taking a walk," Genji answered. "I wanted some fresh air."

"You won't get it here with the chicken shit," Jamison laughed at his joke before he pointed to Mako. "Roadie! We got ourselves a guest!"

Mako stepped out from behind the chicken coop and fixed Genji with a stare from behind his mask. He nodded once, then went back to sprinkling seed to the floor. Around his feet, the chickens danced and clucked, pushing to get in line for the better seed.

Mako stepped gently around them before nodding a formal greeting to Genji. "Help him." He grunted. It wasn't a question.

Genji knelt next to Jamison and grabbed the wire fence, and held it in place against the post as Jamison quickly wrapped the wire to hold it in place. "Damn chickens, don't do nothing for us," He grumbled under his breath before shooting Mako a glare. "Just end up covered in mud and smelling like dirt."

"You don't like chickens?" Genji asked.

Jamison glared at him before hurrying over to the next post. Genji followed. "I mind 'em just fine." He snorted. "Just a right pain in the keister, as far as I'm concerned. Smelly, dirty birds."

"I'm sure Mako could find someone else to help him if you hate this. Bastion-" Genji stopped talking as the outlaw glared daggers at the mention of the friendly farmer robot. "Or Brigitte? Morrison?"

"Morrison is usually the one out here with Roadie," Jamison grunted. "But since he's gone, I gotta be out here. I wanna make sure Roadie's birds are okay. He's been worried about them escaping all morning."

"Is that why you are fixing the fence?"

Jamison nodded. "Saw markings of a fox the other day. You know what happens when a fox gets in." He made a noise as he dragged his thumb across his neck. "Can't have that happening now, can we? Roadie loves these damn birds."

"I have to say that we appreciate fresh eggs as well." Genji smiled. 

"Besides," Jamison waved him off. "I like spending time with Roadie, ya know? He's my guy, and I'm his."

"Rat," The big man grunted. Jamison leaped to his feet and into the pen at the call. Genji watched as Mako explained something to him quietly, and Jamison listened.

Genji worked on his own, weaving the wiring around the wired fence and up the pole, careful to not leave it loose or any jagged edges where the chickens could get tangled. He moved to the next pole.

Inside the pen, Jamison reached down and lifted a hen and held it in his arms as Mako inspected the bird. Genji could see them talking, but their words never reached his ears. Their body language was easy to read through. 

Mako tenderly touched Jamison's arm while Jamison smiled up at him with adoration. Genji felt as if he were intruding on something intimate that neither man would have shown to another, but somehow it felt so casual, so carefree. Neither seemed to care about his presence. Neither man seemed to care about anything but each other and the chickens.

Patient and kind. 

Genji smiled and moved onto the next post. On the surface, these outlaws and psychopaths seemed like hell. They looked like what happened to society when all humanity was stripped away. 

But maybe that was the truth. Perhaps, the trick with being human was nothing more than understanding that at their core, humans could have everything else stripped away from them and still find the capacity to find something to live for. The only thing left behind was the truth. And love. And kindness.

It was enough.


	6. Manual System Override

After spending the remainder of the working day with Mako and Jamison, Genji returned to his quarters, feeling that, for two wanted murderers, the pair were a pleasant company to keep. Mako had been a damn excellent cook when they offered a late lunch. He had offered to clean dishes as a way of thanks, but the large man grunted out a no and shoved him out into the quickly cooling evening. 

They had had enough of the company, apparently.

It was still early, meaning that Ana would have been in the kitchens preparing a banquet for the remaining members of Overwatch. In typical Ana fashion, she would take time to do it right and would not serve anyone until late, right when Genji would be hungry once again.

Genji could have headed back to the warehouse and shown he could be productive that day, but it did not sound appealing at all. Old habits died hard, and with six members of the team gone, it felt silly for him to be working when they were also working. It was a backward, round-robin approach to laziness, but he wasn't going to fight it. And it wasn't like anyone else here was working especially hard either.

He stopped in front of his room and found a crisp, white envelope taped to his door. His name was expertly scripted out in a flowing, familiar cursive. Angela's handwriting was unmistakable. He had seen it enough over the years. She was the only doctor he knew that could write out her medical notes in something that amounted to be chicken scratch but also have the patience to do beautiful calligraphy paintings of inspirational sayings. His favorite being the one she gifted him last Christmas, on beautifully stained wood, it read: 'Eat a bag of dicks'

"Genji," Angela wrote, "I am sorry I had to cut our conversation short. You are asking difficult questions, and I fear that I was not able to fully answer them for you. Please know that there are people here who can help you on your journey and that there will not be any judgment from them if you seek answers.  
Take care,  
Angela"

He turned the card over and groaned. Angela, in all her wisdom, had written down the phone numbers to both the laboratory and the garage, complete with times that Dr. Winston and Torbjorn would be available to speak to him.

"That is just grand," He sighed as he slogged into his room and shut the door behind him. The smell of earth and chickens still clung to his skin and clothes. Knowing Angela, she had informed both of the men that Genji would be looking to talk, and the worst thing he could think of was Torbjorn showing up at his room, and smelling like literal chicken shit would have been the worst.

The plan was to take a quick and cold shower — a swift soaping up and washing down before dressing in comfortable sweat pants. At least, it had been, until Genji decided that the water was just too cold. He warmed the water and leaned against the cold, white tile. 

The juxtaposition of the temperatures felt glorious as he soaped over his chest and rock hard abs. Genji watched as the water rippled over his skin and tricked down to his half-hard cock.

Genji closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift away from himself. For the second time in as many days, desire bubbled inside him. 

Genji let his hand travel over his abdomen, tracing over the hard muscle and moved lower still. The last time he had touched himself, the need for release outweighed any other function in his brain. He needed to feel his toes curl and his back arch as cum splattered against his belly. 

Now, his erection was not begging for release. At least it wasn't yet. His body was tingling and alive. It wanted to get lost in fantasy. Who was Genji to deny that?

Genji shut off the water and grabbed his towel, drying himself off as he moved back to his main room. He stood naked and erect in his quiet space. It felt natural and exciting to exist in this natural state. 

In his youth, Genji had hated clothes on principle. No matter how loose the cut or how thin the fabric, it always felt constricting around him, like it was choking him. He valued the family hot springs, as well as anytime he could steal away into the showers. They were times he was allowed his nudity without any scorn.

And in his room.

It was silly to become nostalgic about a time he detested so much. Most of his days were spent confined to his rooms. They were an elaborate prison meant to keep him "safe." He had hated it. His only solace came when he was playing video games and masturbating, usually at the same time. 

But now, he could not afford as much freedom. Adulthood, real adulthood, came with responsibilities and duties that lay beyond seeing how coherent he could be playing an online game while stretched out on a vibrator. It was sick how his favorite teenage memories were times spent sparring with his brother, and sex toys he smuggled in.

Although, when Hana had booted up an ancient copy of Legend of Zelda, he couldn't help but have a pavlovian response to the theme song. Genji chalked it up to there were too many hot video game characters, and Link was the twinkiest twink that ever existed. 

Genji chuckled and moved to sit at the desk, continuing to ignore the allure of his dick. Somehow, jacking it fast and hard felt like a waste of his endless time, especially when he could find creative ways to edge himself.

Genji was a top. It wasn't that he disliked dick, he liked it a lot, but he much rather have the warm embrace of another around his cock that the sensation of being filled to the brim. On occasion, he had indulged. It was fun, and he was skilled, but it did not thrill him the way watching someone else become unraveled with just the slow push inside. He was also a terrible tease to his partners, making them beg and plead for his attention, even after he had them in his bed. 

Currently, there was no person around whom he wanted to seduce. This was Genji's time alone, where he could get to know himself again. Zenyatta would have called it therapeutic.

Genji snickered at the idea. He could picture his master in front of him, hands folded and head cocked to the side, asking Genji to show him.

"Show you?" Genji chucked to his fantasy version of Zenyatta. He ran a hand flirtatiously through his hair and leaned back in the wooden chair, spreading his legs wider for the invisible audience. 

His cock bobbed excitedly. Zenyatta would have liked to see him play with himself. He would have wanted to know more about how humans get pleasure. Where should he touch, if Zenyatta was going to feel Genji?

Back in the day, he would have had a drawer full of silicone toys to aid him. Things that whirred and twisted and pumped and squeezed. His hands danced over the object he had, looking for something he could use as an aid. 

Nothing looked quite right. Nothing felt warm and heavy in Genji's hand; they were either too angular or too wide or too hard. Younger Genji would have taken it as a challenge. Older, wiser Genji wanted to be able to move in an hour without worrying about tearing his asshole. 

And he didn't want to call Lucio down to explain to him why there was a lightbulb shoved up his ass.

The most natural solution would have been his phone. He knew from experience he could set the phone to vibrate. It would work in a pinch, but pressing his phone up against his taint and the fear of accidentally ball-dialing someone quickly diminished those ideas. Especially since the most frequent people he called were the ones he least wanted to know, he was using government-issued technology as a masturbatory aid.

His testicles retracted at the idea of pressing something warm and vibrating against them. Genji reached down and took them both in his hand, rolling that soft part of his body as he searched.

Genji cursed the fact that nothing else that he owned vibrated. Nothing he could see looked stimulating at all. He leaned back further and hooked a foot up onto the desk while he kept the other on the floor as he worked himself slowly, letting a finger dip back and play with his hole.

His eyes fell to the orb. It sat beside his bed on the table, where he had left it last night. It still shimmered in the growing darkness of his room, only a short reach away from his position.

A shiver strummed down his spine. He shouldn't, his mind reasoned. Yet, his free hand reached out and grasped onto the ball. It hummed and vibrated softly in his hand.

________

Zenyatta had never considered that he was an introvert. All his life, he had surrounded himself with likeminded omnics and people. He had basked in the quiet reflection, sitting near another and quietly listening to them speak. Everyone worked in a friendly, orderly fashioned. 

Sure, things could get wild sometimes, they were monks, but even monks deserved to have fun. But it was well-timed, organized fun. There was a clear beginning and ending time that he and the order liked.

Standing in the center of the ballroom with the cacophony of noise was nothing close to neat and orderly. Jack had placed himself, Reinhardt, Hanzo, and Lena on watchman's duty, meaning that Zenyatta was left to mingle in the crowd alone. He would have much preferred the quiet of the hotel room, but he had insisted on coming down. He had been invited and was their guest, and it would have been rude to decline.

He had also assumed Jack would have said no. Half of the reason he agreed to come to the party was under the assumption that Agent Morrison would have seen the potential danger in a room full of elite scientists and dignitaries when he thought a threat of Talon loomed over them. To Zenyatta's great disappointment, he had said it was a good idea.

"It is harder to assassinate one person in a packed room," Jack has said.

Hanzo agreed. The tower of the hotel lent itself to be inhospitable for sniper nests. The hotel was on its own campus, where the surrounding buildings were low-level shops for tourists and a nature center. The angles were wrong, Hanzo said. A target would be hard to follow, and it had an easily broken line of sight. The elder Shimada reasoned he would have never taken an assassination job like this.

Shimada's vote of confidence did not help the sudden rise of panic inside Zenyatta. What if a sniper wasn't the tool Talon wanted? The omnics in Paris and the bombings in Egypt did not require a sniper.

No one seemed to worry about bombs, though. No one would tell Zenyatta why they weren't concerned either.

Zenyatta nearly leaped out of his robes as he felt a hand on his shoulder, splashing the flute of champagne over himself and the other as he quickly turned, his fists flying up to defend himself against the unseen foe.

Behind him was a woman, tall and thin with large blue eyes. For the briefest of moments, he thought he saw the severe angles and spider-like grasp of a tall woman who looked almost emancipated with how thin her body was. 

Just as quickly, it morphed into the statuesque form of Angela Ziegler.

"Oh!" Angela let out a gasp of surprise and jumped back, avoiding most of the spilling drink. She seemed to float back to the ground, her dandelion yellow dress billowing slightly around her. He wondered if she was wearing some modified form of her armor under her elegant dress. "Zen, I didn't mean to startle you!" She laughed and snagged a napkin off a passing waiter and dabbed at the wet spots on her satin dress.

"Dr. Ziegler!" Zenyatta reached forward, eager to help her clean the mess off only to stop when he realized it would be impolite to touch a woman's torso. Instead, he lifted a side of the dress and dabbed there. "My apologies, you startled me!"

Angela laughed and waved it off. "Reinhardt said you were a little jumpy today. It is my fault for sneaking up on you. Why were you holding champagne?"

Heat coursed through Zenyatta at the question. He blotted at a tiny dot on the fabric. "The wait staff offered me one. It seemed rude to decline."

"They were being polite," Angela caught his hand in hers and lifted it away. She smiled. "It would have been rude to not offer anything to you, seeing as you are an honored guest." She teased and wrapped her arm around his. 

Zenyatta relaxed, resting his other hand on top of the doctor's and looked around at all the people and omnics, dressed in tuxedos and gowns while they waited. "I heard there was a charity auction going to happen soon. Proceeds will go to help rebuild Paris after the Null Sector attack."

Angela made a little hum, "That bothers you." She did not ask. Instead, she said it as a fact. 

"I feel strongly for the people of France and the hardship that comes from a terrorist attack," Zenyatta defended his reasonings. "But the attack happened not too long ago, and this conference and auction have been in place for much longer. I wonder who is losing support in order to benefit a cause that has drawn more eyes."

Angela laughed. "You sound just like Lucio," She patted his arm and led him along, through the crowd. She led him over to another group of people and took charge of introducing Zenyatta to the small cluster of well-dressed individuals.

Each took a turn, shaking his hand and stating how moved they were by his speech. Angela gave them each a few moments to gush over the Shambali, and the decision Zenyatta made to lead a life of poverty before she excused them both and moved on.

"I have found it best to get the awful mingling out of the way, show your face for a half-hour, then you can leave feeling guilt-free," She smiled up at him.

He felt a tremor run through his body and realized they did not come from Angela's kind words. He could once again feel warm hands on his body, heating his core. 

Genji's warm hands were slowly caressing him again. He pushed the sensation back, ignoring it as best he could. There would be time later for that.

Zenyatta did his best to beam at Angela, trying to convey as best he could with his body language how much he appreciated having her near, before being led to another group. "Greetings," he waved.

Inside, he shivered with pleasure.

_________

The third shower of the day was ice cold. 

Genji sat angerly under the hard spray of water and let the frigid temperature kill his erection. He had to temper the desire that raged inside him. He had thought of Zenyatta again, his lithe body underneath Genji as he made the tiniest of noises with each upward thrust of Genji's powerful hips. His cock needed to feel those dexterous fingers along the shaft, exploring with curiosity. Zenyatta was humming softly, stating he had never done anything like this before, and how Genji was his first.

Except for the orbs.

Genji's perverted mind pictured the omnic pressing the humming orbs against his groin and moaning at the soft pleasures he found there. Zenyatta's chrome and silicone cock would twitch as he pushed one of the spheres against his entrance and pushed. 

In his fantasy, Genji would watch as Zenyatta squirmed under him, his body slowly opening up to take the humming orb, just as Genji in real life pressed the globe in his hand harder against his taint. He could feel it trembling and vibrating through his body, stimulating his prostate and making him want to finger himself as well.

At that moment, reality and fantasy collide. The thrill of the vibration coarse through Genji cock, making it drool precum onto his stomach.

Then the horror set in.

Genji banged his head repeatedly against the tiled wall of the bath. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Past transgressions could be forgiven, especially those made in his youth. Before, he was lashing out on a world that tried to dictate his every moment. Sex was a game and a toy. People's emotions and consequences did not matter.

But this was Zenyatta he was fantasizing about. And this was his master's treasure he had gifted to Genji in his absence. How insensitive was Genji? How selfish and uncaring was he that all he saw in his master now was sex?

Too soon, the icy bath began to feel like needles and pins against his skin. Too much longer and Athena would be calling to inform him that his body was at dangerous temperatures, and she would need to call in Lucio since Angela was gone.

Genji shut off the water and stepped out. He grabbed the still wet towel from before and patted himself dry, careful to not touch his soft dick at all, before shoving on clothes before looking around his room. Zenyatta's orb had rolled away in Genji's haste to distance himself from his makeshift sex toy and now lay in the corner of the room. The knowledge of what he had done lingered.

Genji snagged the old Blackwatch hoodie he had and pulled it over his head, keeping the hood up. He snatched the orb off the ground, found a wet wipe, cleaned it, then shoved it deep into the kangaroo pouch at the front of his sweatshirt.

It's warmth pressed against his stomach.

He needed to get out of here.

Genji turned on his heel and left the room, heading down the way opposite of the warehouses. He would have to tell Zenyatta about the episode, he reasoned. It was only fair. Using that orb to aid in his self-pleasure was akin to him using Zenyatta's hand.

Was it, though? The orbs were not attached to Zenyatta's body. Plus, it appeared as if they were not necessary for Zenyatta to have them on his person at all times. Were they a part of Zenyatta the same way his hand was?

Genji's head swam. He had often thought of the implications of being an omnic. He had thought of the general makeup of omnics as well. Still, Hana's words swam through his mind about robot pregnancy and the idea of tiny omnics growing up to be the adult members of society.

How old was Zenyatta? He knew that Zenyatta was constructed after the initial Omnic crisis, but that was about it. He had always assumed he was older due to his maturity. But maturity did not qualify a person to be older.

Genji stopped and looked at the frosted glass of the doors that led into the laboratory. A warm light glowed from inside. It was now well past work hours. Any reasonable person would have retired for the evening, Genji concluded. Or if they hadn't left yet, they would be packing up. It would have been rude to intrude on Dr. Winston as he tried to go for the night. 

Leaving a note on his desk to ask for a meeting tomorrow, though, wouldn't be rude, and as a ninja, he could easily access his workspace without the commander ever seeing him.

Reluctantly, Genji pushed open the door.

________

If Zenyatta had lungs, he would have yawned. For the life of him, he could not understand how Angela could listen to this keynote speaker without finding his voice droning and dull. The omnic with the robotic voice that gave the introduction was less tedious than the frail-looking professor that droned on about the research behind the reason he was the keynote speaker. And Zenyatta was well past the point of caring what the man's point was. The auction should have started well over a century ago. 

Zenyatta looked around the room, catching a glimpse of Lena leaning against the exit. She placed a hand over her mouth to hide the yawn. At least she was not the only one who felt the twenty-five-minute lecture was twenty-four minutes too long.

Angela had been excited to listen, stating she followed his online lectures and that he was not only knowledgeble but hilarious. Zenyatta must not have gotten the joke. Still, beside him, she sat up as an attentive listener.

Static crackled to life in Zenyatta's ear, followed by the clear voice of Jack. "There have been reports of suspicious activity on the south side of the building. Shimada, check it out."

Hanzo gave the affirmative.

Zenyatta perked. Suddenly, with the possibility that something would happen that didn't relate to the structural integrity of plant cells, he found himself alert. Angela leaned forward with a frown, obviously distressed. "Jack?" She whispered.

"Could be nothing," Jack replied. "Just word on suspicious activity from local authorities. Probably teenagers. Figured it was better to check it out than not." The tone of his voice supported the notion that Jack was also bored. 

Zenyatta deflated just as quickly as he perked. Even the command couldn't stand how dry and dull the conference was if the idea of crashing teenage drinking and vandalism was appealing to the old soldier.

He wondered mildly how terrible it would be to hope for a bomb threat: not an actual explosion where people were hurt, but anything besides this eternity of waiting. Maybe if they were all evacuated, he could talk them into going to a restaurant he saw in a pamphlet by the front desk that offered alcoholic beverages and arcade games.

"Agent Shimada, check-in," Jack stated after a few minutes of silence with that same bored tone. "Report?"

There came no reply.

Jack repeated the question, this time more alert.

Again, there was no reply.

If there was one thing they had all learned about the elder Shimada, he was a stickler for following the rules and obeying authority. It was unsettling not to hear him respond.

"Age-" Jack's voice cut off in the middle of the word, leaving nothing but silence.

"Jack?" Angela whispered. She pressed her finger to her ear to cut off the rest of the sounds around them.

Zenyatta looked over to Lena. Like Angela, she had her fingers in her ears. Without even seeing her face, Zenyatta knew she was doing the same thing. She was calling out to their commanding officer, who was silent.

But in his earpiece, he could not hear her either. He could not hear either of the women in the room with him. "Agent Oxton, can you hear me?" He asked into the communicator.

There was no reply. Zenyatta looked at Angela.

Angela looked back. She couldn't hear his voice either. 

Without a word, both of them stood and moved towards Lena.

A sound like a loud pop echoed through the room, followed by a rumble and a roar. The building shook.

________

One thing Genji had always prided himself in was the art of stealth. He had mastered it by the age of fifteen when he learned how to deflect the guards and sneak into the city quickly. Hanzo had reveled in the art of becoming invisible, igniting the delight and accolades from the elders. 

Genji had mastered it without their notice.

So why then was a four-hundred and thirty-pound ape able to detect him no more than twenty-five seconds after he entered his office? Genji lamented as he sat on the uncomfortable round stool at the workbench and listened as Winston eagerly told him about his correspondence with the humanitarian group, "Processing Climate; A Better World for All."

To his credit, Winston never once asked Genji why he was in his office, but Genji was sure this conversation was less about informing him on the aid Overwatch was planning on gifting and more along the lines of sweating him out. 

Winston was waiting for him to crack. It was like waterboarding with words.

Genji's eye drifted to the clock hanging on the wall and tried to calculate how long it would be polite to listen before he could excuse himself for dinner. It was Ana's turn to cook, and the woman prided herself in the time it took to execute a dish. He still would have an hour before dinner was served, anytime sooner, and he would be stuck with setting the table.

"So why did you come here?"

Genji's gaze shot up. Winston cleaned his glasses. "Wh-"

"Angela informed me you had some questions for me to answer, but she was very vague about them and said I should ask you when you came."

"Oh, Yes," Genji cleared his throat. "You were...part of the team that constructed...me?" Fuck. It sounded smoother in his head.

Winston brightened. A wide smile spread across his face, showing off his large canines. "I was!" He announced. "Angela-Dr. Ziegler was the primary on your reconstruction, but I was the scientist in charge of helping modify and adapt omnic parts to be compatible with human organs. I was involved with every cybernetic implant surgery."

Genji nodded. He half expected Winston to shove his datapad at him and bring up a naked 3D model of his body. The idea of Angela's eyes on his nude form was enticing. Winson's eager gaze was creepy, like an episode of the Twilight Zone where apes traded places with humans and used them in experiments. "How did that...go?"

Winston blinked. He fiddled with the glasses some more, straightening them on his face. "Successful?"

They were getting nowhere. 

"I mean," Genji tried again. "How does….it work?"

"Your body?"

"yes."

"Uh," Winston started and looked down at the worktable in front of him. "You have a highly complicated and impressive structure to automate the functions of your body. Your legs and arm are-"

"Like, how can I feel things?" Genji interrupted, deciding it was best to get to the point.

"Excuse me?" Winston asked. Genji was about to repeat himself when the scientist continued. "Brain remapping. We had to hardwire your cybernetics into the portions of our brain that control those functions. Arm to arm, leg to leg, etc."

"You've done it before," Genji noted, remembering Soujurn's legs and McCree's ruptured kidney. They had the technology to replaced organs and limbs, but… 

"To put it bluntly, sensors are built into all prosthetic limbs and organs to help them behave properly. Understanding touch helps make it, so you don't crush things."

"So why did Angela say that my surgery was more complicated? I mean, besides the fact Reyes brought me in inside a ziplock baggie."

Winston stood and began to wander along his workbench as he spoke, fiddling with things as he went. He looked over at the giant mechs in his lab. "Extent of damages was a major difference," he explained. "Reconstructing you and reconstructing, say, Jesse's arm has two different values to them."

Genji cocked his head to the side.

Winston continued. "I mean….think of it this way, if Jesse were to lose sensation in his fingertips, what has he lost?"

"Sensation in his fingertips?" Genji answered, unsure where this was going.

"Right! But he still would have his other senses to fall back on; A second hand, his body, his legs. It would be unnerving for him to experience that, but he could still function. The sensors in his arm are good, but they are not a one-to-one comparison to his organic arm."

"So, you built me with better nerves?"

Winston nodded. "McCree probably required a few weeks of physical therapy to get used to his new limb. I'm ninety percent sure he had it done at some skeevy chopshop and never had given it proper maintenance until coming here," Winston said the last part under his breath. It was like it insulted him that a wanted man like McCree hustled his way into a prosthetic limb.

Genji reflected instead on Winston's words. "Ultimately, my body is larger than an arm."

"Ultimately, losing sensation in your body would be more unnerving than if McCree lost sensation in his arm. There are more neural networks that we implemented. We made sure to give you as much sensation as physically possible. You needed to register that your stomach was empty and to eat. You needed to know when something breached your defenses and if something was going to hurt you. Essentially, our goal was to make you feel as human as you were."

Genji frowned. "And, omnics helped with that?"

"Omnics were indispensable when it came to rebuilding you. They understood the technology better than any of us could have, and they found ways to bypass many of the challenges we have had in the past with diverting sensations. We needed to be sure when someone touched your right elbow; your brain told you it wasn't your left side big toe."

Genji chuckled. "It sounds very complicated."

Winston nodded. "Omnics, as it turns out, are complicated. Especially since they took over the creation of new omnics, they are like any other living being and strive for evolution. Their evolution is not organic, like ours, and does not require millions of years."

Genji looked behind him, to the unblinking eye of the Wreckingball. The sphere of destruction had a brain, but it was more akin to a hamster's brain than a human. The irony that a hamster piloted it with the intellect of a human. Genji wondered where the mischevious little rodent was. "Do omnics have babies?"

He felt like a small child asking such a foolish question, and the look on Winston's confirmed it. He had meant to ask something much more base in nature, but as the words 'do omnics fuck' were leaving his mouth, Genji's brain took a hard right turn and instead ended on the word 'babies,' as if that was helpful to his needs at all.

"Uh," The scientist started.

Genji made a start to apologize when squeaking laughter stopped him dead in his tracks. He whipped around and found the fuzzball rolling on his back and clutching at his sides. Hammond made a small chippering noise and pointed at Winston.

Behind him, the Wreckinball's massive eye whirred to life. It looked between the three of them, the aperture dilating as if it was unsure if it needed to translate what its pilot was saying.

Winston seemed to understand, though. He straightened up in his seat and cleared his throat. "Omnics are incapable of pregnancy," He stated matter-of-factly, his eyes darted to Hammond and then added, "Obviously. But, the production of Omnics is a rather interesting subject. In fact, I watched a documentary the other night all on the production and manufacturing of omnics."

Genji tried not to groan as he settled himself in for yet another long lecture.

________

There was a 'pop pop pop' that came from behind. Zenyatta raised his hands to defend his head as Lena grabbed his left arm and yanked him in away. Somewhere back, Angela had splintered apart. There was the possibility of injured people. She needed to help.

Lena's only goal appeared to be getting Zenyatta to safety. She tried the comms again in a futile attempt to gain some control over the chaos around them. There was no answer still. Talon must have jammed the receptors. 

It wasn't just the comms that Overwatch had that were affected. Zenyatta watched as hired guards struggled to connect with their superiors, as well as with the local law enforcement. He even watched as an elderly gentleman attempted to make a phone call. Every signal out of the hotel was blocked. 

It at least meant that Talon had crippled its own communications as well, though Zenyatta could not see the purpose of blinding themselves unless the Talon hacker had somehow given them a private line.

Lena took a hard left, shoving Zenyatta aside and pressed him against the wall of a closet with her own body pressed against his. Her normally jubilant eyes were narrowed and focused. He could see why Commander Morrison had thought of her as his successor. 

Two operatives, clad in black and red body armor, ran past, their large guns at the ready. They passed by the huddled and scared people and continued down the hall, apparently on orders. Zenyatta felt vindicated that Talon was using a separate communications line, though it honestly didn't feel like a victory.

"We need to get you somewhere safe," Lena panted once the Talon agents had left. She ran a hand through her short hair and looked both ways down the hallway. "It isn't safe here."

No, it clearly was not safe. The sound of shattering glass reinforced that notion. Lena jumped as she heard a scream, ready to throw herself into the fray, even if she was ill-prepared. The thought tugged at Zenyatta's heartstrings as well. He did not like cowering in a corner. "We need to help." He stated.

"We need a weapon." She looked Zenyatta over, clearly sizing him up. He was slow, especially compared to the zippy wisp of a woman. She swallowed hard as a resolution came to her. "My gear is on the Orca," She said. She opened her mouth to continue her thought but stopped. 

"Get it," Zenyatta agreed. "See if you can get a hold of Winston as well. get a message out to anyone."

"I need to find you a safe spot-" She started.

Zenyatta placed a hand on her shoulder. He squeezed, and she was quiet. "Go. Now." Another popping of an automatic weapon sounded. "I know how to hold my own and stay safe. You need to go protect."

Lena stared at him as if she was trying to commit his face to her memory before she blinked away with only a fading blue light in her wake.

Zenyatta waited until the blue light of her Chrono Accelerator dimmed away and set his resolve. He joined Overwatch for a reason. This had to be it.

__________

Genji's head nodded forward involuntarily as Winston went into great details about the various manufacturing centers for Omnics. Currently, the scientist was talking about the Omnic War and the treaties with the omnic communities about how humans would no longer manufacture omnics for labor (or at all). 

Hammond sat next to Genji. His squat little arms folded up as his nose twitched with interest as he looked between Winston and Genji. It made the ninja uncomfortable, almost like the hamster knew what Genji was wanting to ask, and was now waiting patiently for him to embarrass himself again.

"Any other questions?" Winston asked with a smile. He pushed his askew glasses farther up his nose.

It was now or never. Genji sat up straight, suddenly alert and blurted, "Do omnics have sex?"

The words tumbled out of his mouth quickly, and in all a jumble, so it sounded more like 'doomnicshavesex,' but that last word hung in the air like a particularly bad fart. Winston wrinkled his nose. Genji was sure he was blushing, even if his dark fur hid the reddening. "Uuuh…"

It was not a pause like the others. It wasn't Winston processing the question to formulate an objective response. It was sheer bewilderment, and Genji felt like a fool for asking. He sat up rigid straight, though, and waiting for an answer.

Time passed. Hammond looked positively gleeful. 

Winston cleared his throat with a loud, manufactured 'Ahem' before looking back at the mechs behind him. "Well, no? Yes?" He curled his lip like he was not satisfied with the binary answer. "Yes and no." He finally settled. He stared at Genji with the hope that would be the end of the talk.

After hours of talking, now the Gorilla decided to not go into details. The best course of action, Genji decided, was to wait him out.

A few more uncomfortable minutes passed before Winston groaned and decided enough was enough. "Most omnics do not have, uh, reproductive organs. Not unless the omnic opted to get a, uh, upgrade for, um, other purposes and, ah-ha, reasons."

Genji felt his heart drop. It was not the answer he had hoped for, especially considering who Zenyatta was. "I see," he stated. 

Winston made a broad sweep with his hands as he began to babble. "There is a thriving omnic community devoted to, uh, instilling pleasure in, um, humans. Humans will, uh, pay for the opportunity to be with an omnic, and, uh, I would assume the omnic also derives pleasure from the experience." All too quickly, the pumping motion of Winston's fist caught both their attention. "Oh, bother."

Hammond shrieked with delight and rolled onto his back, choking on his laughter. At least someone as finding this amusing.

The next second, the small mammal skittered on all fours across the worktable and to Winston. Hammond stood up on his back legs and began to chitter and squeak. Winston appeared to be able to understand. He nodded along, making noises in the affirmative. The hamster then turned and ran to Genji. He grabbed his hand in his tiny paw and pulled.

"He, uh, wishes for you to follow him," Winston mumbled.

Genji obeyed. He had never owned a pet; deciding early on the responsibility was far too demanding, and now, here he was, bullied around by the world's most intelligent rat. 

Winston, mercifully, stayed back.

Hammond led him across the lab to the foot of his mechanical sphere of destruction. Wreckingball was a creation of Hammond's own devising. It was an omnic, in the crudest definition of the word. In no way was Wreckingball as advanced as Orisa unit from Nubani or the Bastion Torbjorn brought with him. The creature held base intelligence, enough to sense danger and protect without its pilot's knowledge. That made it slightly more intelligent than Hana's Mecka, but only in the same way that a fish was more intelligent than a sea sponge.

Wildly chittering, Hammond motioned up at the creature. Wreckingball responded, "The hamster requests that you observe." 

Squeaking out his Rodentia lecture, Hammond gestured to the robot in front of him. Quickly, he scampered up the front and stopped just over the optical aperture. Hammond patted its side lovingly before turning back to Genji and chittered some more. 

This time, Wreckingball did not translate. Instead, Genji watched in bewilderment as Hammond popped off a panel, exposing the internal wiring of Wreckingball. Nodules and installation sat compact and neat within the mech, pulsating with energy. The whole time, Wreckingball's singular eye watched Genji.

It should have been a familiar sight to Genji by now. He had seen his own wires before. Hell, he even had enough knowledge about them to be able to do necessary mechanical repairs on his own body. Much like slapping a bandaid on a cut, Genji could replace and repair faulty wires.

But the way that Hammond stood in front of him, gesturing to the core of his mech felt different. It was like the hampster had just dropped his mech's pants and bent him over, and now Genji was looking into his asshole.

"I don't," Genji started, but the hamster cut him off with a wave of his paw before reaching in and grabbing hold of one of the wires. Slowly, Hammond began to caress Wreckingball in a very familiar way.

Genji swallowed and watched with fascinated horror as Hammond chittered in that similar clinical tone he had heard from everyone these past few days. 

The lights on Wreckingball's array flashed once, yellow and pink before they settled into an erratic flickering as the aperture of his eye dilated. The creature did not make a single vocalization, but the internal fans whirring inside were enough to show that the mech was on the verge of overheating and working on cooling itself down.

Wreckingball clicked, and Hammond dug his hands in deeper. The whirring of the fans grew in intensity.

The clicking was its voicebox, Genji realized with muted horror. The click turned into a high-pitched whine. Wreckingballs's arms and legs began to twitch, pulling themselves almost into the spherical body before ejecting them back out, arching its body into Hammond's hands.

"What is it trying to say?" Winston asked, and Genji regretted it. 

Genji immediately cringed as Hammond turned with the most wicked smile he had ever seen on a chubby creature's face. It made his blood run cold. That was a smile that came after someone pushed the big red button labeled "do not touch." It was the smile of the villain of an action movie when someone, usually the dumb sidekick character, asked, "You wouldn't dare! That would kill us all!"

It was a smile that said, "Oh, you know I put him on mute to spare you the noise, but if you insist…"

The lab flooded with the babbling nonsense of the Wreckingball as it continued to spasm in Hammond's hands. Statistics and facts burst out of his voice box as his eye lay unfocused on Genji. It leaned further into Hammond's hands. Genji was sure, if Hammond didn't have an appalled audience in front of him, he would have scampered deep inside the recesses of the machine and would have been pleasuring it from inside.

Masturbating him.

Fuck. Genji was literally watching a hamster finger a mech, basically massaging its prostate. 

"Hnnnnnn," Wreckingball whined, with his low automatic voice. "More," it demanded. "Put your floppy disc inside my CD drive, baby."

Of all the terrible sexy lines Genji had ever heard in any porno, this live performance in front of him was the worst.

"Once you are inside," Wreckingball continued, "Add more RAM. Manual System Overlock initiated. Hard drive shut down in one minute, twenty seconds."

Genji cringed at the mechanical way the robot was announcing that he was close to cuming. God, is that what humans sounded like to Omnics? Would Zenyatta find this dialogue titillating?

After that, the voice of Wreckingball became distorted, clicking, and whirring with more whine. Hammond chirped and looked up at his mech with adoration. Suddenly, the lights of his body began to flash wildly. The sounds of the fans started to whirr louder and louder, to the point where Genji felt like covering his ears to block it out. He wanted to obstruct out all the noises he heard from the machine, but ingrained politeness kept him from raising his hands, especially when Winston next to him just stared forward with dead, blank eyes.

It was as if public rudeness would have been a worse thing than literally watching a rodent jack off a robot.

Genji was about to vocalize a retreat when the booming voice of Athena drowned out every other sound. 

"Commander Winston," Athena bellowed. Everything stopped. Hammond pulled his hands free of the mech and looked to the sky, as did Genji and Winston. 

"Athena-?"

"We are on Red Alert. There is a confirmation of Talon operatives at the World Peace Conference. Communications with agents located at the event are down. It is unknown if there are any casualties."

The three of them moved as one, racing over to the lab's central computer.

"How do you know this if there is no communications, Athena?" Winston asked, his fingers raced over the keyboard of his computer.

"Agent Tracer. She somehow was able to send a message from the Orca. Local forces are on their way." 

"What was the message?" Winston demanded

"Morse code. She sent out a series of clicks through when she punctured the Talon field."

The display lit up and news reporters, safe in their studio, spoke. "It is still unknown what caused the localized explosion at the World Peace Conference, but currently, law enforcement is locking down the situation. It appears at this time that the subsequent fires are confined to the campus of the hotel. Neighboring blocks will remain evacuated as a safety precaution. Please stay tuned as the story develops."

Genji didn't realize until later how hard he had gripped the metal table in front of him, not until he released the structure and found his grip had put a permanent pinch into the metal.

From behind them, Wreckingball spoke. "Reboot complete. All systems online.Manual system Overlock complete. System performance reset to standard values. Requesting permission to clean up sensory feedback."


	7. Statistical Anomaly

Static crackled noisily in Zenyatta’s ear before a single, audible word sounded through the technological snow.“-Hear-” 

Then silence. It was the first words Zenyatta had heard that didn’t come from grunt Talon operatives that were herding people into one of the many conference rooms. Their dense, booted steps made it easy for Zenyatta to avoid. He had hoped the others were just as lucky.

“I repeat---me?” The voice was definitely that of Lena Oxton. The sound of her voice echoed in his brain like the wispy bolt of lightning she was. It was a glorious sound amidst the rat-a-tat-tat of gunfire that surrounded him. It meant there was hope. She had managed to burst through the communications lockdown. It meant she still had not been caught.

There was still hope.

Zenyatta continued to hug the wall as he moved, trying his best to keep a low profile. He had managed to avoid Talon, for the most part, which he hoped meant that the other members of their team who trained for occasions like this were also safe. Mostly, he counted his blessings that he was not recognizable. Talon operatives passed by him as he feigned cowering in the corners without a second glance. It was almost as if service omnics were invisible to them.

That made it easier to get back to his hotel room. As he rounded the corner to the stairs, he found a single black bot outside the door. From its sensors was a bright red light, scanning for something, for what, Zenyatta didn’t know. 

He approached, and the orbital receptor turned, blinking wildly over Zenyatta’s body. He went still, waiting for the bot to sound an alert, for it to speak or scream or...do something.

But nothing happened. The bot’s glass eye watched him but did nothing. 

Zenyatta chanced it and stepped forward, towards the stairs. He took another step, then another, pivoting his body, so the bot was never out of his line of vision. The bot did the same. Its range of sight following his every movement. It continued to scan him, but still, there was no movement from anywhere. No shouts for him to stop or to arrest him with the others.

It was either a trap or a blessing, Zenyatta could not decide. It didn’t matter, though. Upstairs were his orbs, and if he were to be any help to his team, he needed to defend himself. Cautiously, he grasped the railing and took the first step, his gaze never leaving the black bot. Slowly, he took another step backward. And another until he heard the bot’s sensor whirr away, as it turned back to the empty doorway.

He bolted up the stairs faster than he had ever moved before, gripping the railing in one hand and propelling himself up and up, his legs skipping whole steps as he climbed up to their floor. 

If he had lungs, they would have been burning. His joints ached, and his internal fans whirred loudly, whining to keep up with the excess heat that had built inside him. The journey down, he reasoned, would be less tedious. 

The orbs were still neatly packed away, humming lightly for him as he reached in and lifted them one by one as they grabbed onto the magnetic field he generated for them. It was almost like magic.

Instantly, he felt their healing presence, calming his fans, and soothing the build-up of anxious energy inside of him. If he had a choice, he would have meditated and allowed the orbs of harmony to sync up to his systems better, but that was not a luxury he could afford right now. He had synced them last on the Orca on their way here, and it would have to be enough.

He headed back down the stairs, more cautious this time than before. Whatever the black bot was situated there for whatever reason, it would probably detect the enormous energy stored in the spheres and alert Talon. The best thing he could hope for was to move slowly and not give off too much power. 

Harmony was key.

It scanned him again, and again, it made no movement or care. Zenyatta moved quicker past it this time back into the hallways. Whatever the bot was looking for, it certainly was not a humble omnic monk.

__________

“Can you find a way to, I don’t know, hack the system?” Genji’s voice was high in pitch as the door to the lab swung open, and McCree ran in. 

“What in the blue blazes is going on?!” Jesse’s hair was disheveled, and his clothes were askew as he ran over. “One minute I get my call cut off and the next, Athena’s tellin’ me we’re under attack!”

“We are not under attack,” Winston corrected. “The World Peace Conference is under attack. From Talon.”

“I know that,” McCree rolled his eyes. “We got agents at that conference, which makes it a ‘we are under attack’ scenario.” He leaned over and frowned at the muted, looping news segment. His sharp eyes were canning the drone footage the news had obtained, looking for something, but Genji didn’t know what.

“Lena sent a message through,” Genji stated, deciding it best to get McCree up to date. “We know it’s Talon, they have cut off all communications and that she is alive.”

“Any signs of anyone else?” He asked.

“Nothing yet,” Winston’s fingers began to move over the keyboard. “Give me a few minutes. I may be able to to-Athena!” He called out. “Find that signal Tracer used to contact you. We may be able to use it as a back door and punch our signal through.”

The Overwatch’s AI system came online, glowing blue around Winston’s computer as the two worked in tandem. Genji stepped back as worry spread through him. Zenyatta was there and, while with some of the best people and fighters he knew, he was still there alone.

Genji looked over at McCree, who seemed pale and equally as worried. A thought struck him. “Wait, you were on a call with someone at the conference? Who would you be talking to?”

Bashfully, McCree turned away. “Uh,” There was a slight redness to his cheeks.

________

It was looking for living organisms, Zenyatta realized as he passed by another set of black bots. Like the others, these small robots scanned him over and ignored him. Now more than ever, Zenyatta considered himself alive. He could feel the electricity rivetting through his nervous system. His circulatory system raced and pumped energy throughout his whole being as adrenaline pumped throughout his body. It was no wonder some omnics chose to become daredevils. He truly felt every part of his being singing to life and standing on end. It was a beautiful, breathless feeling he hoped he would never feel again.

But the bot was looking for something more organically alive.

He passed through without a second thought and huddled into a corner as he heard the loud stomping of more Talon boots approaching. He did not want to test out the feelings actual Talon agents had with regards to omnics. 

Lena’s voice crackled again in his ear, this time clearer than before. “Grounded--” There was a long pause, and Zenyatta felt something akin to nervousness rise in his throat. “I repeat, the Orca--” She cut out again to silence. Whatever she was doing to get through, it was working.

Zenyatta counted his blessings. Lena was alive and was finding a way to communicate out to them, even if her message was not complete. He trusted that she would continue to work on finding a way to connect them while keeping herself safe. It meant Talon had not fully taken over. It said there was still hope.

“Halt,” A dark voice behind him grunted out.

Zenyatta turned, raising his hands as he did so. Behind him stood a bulky grunt, his hand was raised, giving the motion to stop along with his declaration. He dropped his arm to his side and pivoted his body in a way that looked wrong. His movements were jarring and not at all fluid, like a natural human.

An omnic?

A red light escaped from the grunt’s helmet and scanned over Zenyatta. The monk remained perfectly still.

There was no human behind the mask that covered its face. He realized as the scan ended at his feet and moved back up. This was another programmed bot, more advanced than the ones stationed at the door, but still, it was nothing sophisticated.

The scan completed, and the Talon robot stood perfectly still. It then repeated. “Halt.” It raised it’s hand in that same stop motion and pivoted its legs. This time, Zenyatta did not move. 

Within seconds, the bot dropped its arm, sidestepped, and moved around Zenyatta. It marched down the hall, unseeing.

Zenyatta relaxed.

“How-” To his left, an omnic stepped out from behind the curtains. They looked at the retreating back of the guard. “What was that?” 

“He was scanning for organic matter, I think,” Zenyatta stated. “When I moved, it caught sight of that, but when I stood still,” he trailed off.

The omnic nodded in agreement. “I was with my colleagues. We were about to give a presentation on the production of food and-” They shook their head, getting back on track. “The people I was with were the ones they noticed. I just froze with fear, and...it was like they didn’t see me at all.”

Zenyatta placed a hand on his shoulder. “Then, use that to stay safe.” He said. “Don’t trust that all the terrorists here are programmed response units. Some may be able to process and think.”

The omnic nodded again, wringing their hands nervously. “I don’t think the one in black was an omnic. His face was covered, but," The omnic paused before looking back up at him "It was like the face of Death himself.”

________

Winston notified the base. For the past several minutes, it had been a flurry of activity, each one of them moving swiftly to make sure that every bit of knowledge they had was recorded. And now, there was not much else for them to do. 

It was a game of hurry up and wait. 

Everyone took on tasks that they felt would benefit. Hana and Hammond transported their mechs down to the launch hanger, while Lucio began to fuel the remaining ship in the garage. It was slow, and would not get there in time to be of any help, Genji knew, but at least it was something.

Ana had brought up bowls of food and hot tea for them all and watched as they ate. Her expression was stern and motherly, but also hard as the commander she once was. “It is no use sitting up here and starving yourself. You make bad decisions when you cannot think,” She told Jesse as she moved behind him and straightened out his still messy hair before she turned to Genji and repeated the task.

He had always thought of her as a mother cat, and she doted on the cowboy almost as much as she did her daughter, but Genji could see the lines of worry on her face as she watched the silent news program. Her family was trapped out there, and she was useless.

Genji felt the same pang. Soon, she turned and left, probably to call Fareeha.

“The signal is strange,” Winston grunted, once Ana was out of earshot. 

“How so?” Genji frowned.

“I have been tracing the signal backward, and there is this pattern. Tracer set up the Morse Code to be a repeated transmission, so once it finishes, the message starts up again.”

“Makes sense,” McCree nodded. “I mean, it makes the message easier to catch, but if you don’t care if the bad guy gets your location, it keeps going until it is shut off.”

“No doubt Tracer left the area as soon as she gets the signal going,” Winston agreed. “But,” He grunted and scratched his forehead in thought. “But why hasn’t Talon intercepted the signal yet?”

Genji shrugged. “They have their hands full trying to secure the area? They know about it but don’t care if people learn Talon is the culprit? They know it is an Overwatch signal and are ok with us here knowing about it?” Each answer he gave felt less and less likely. 

Why would Talon then go through the pains of shutting down their signals if they were going to allow a message through? It didn’t make sense.

“Also,” Winston stated. “There is a pattern to the signal.” He swiped a hand over the display and pulled up a graph. The straight-line moved horizontally, then shot both up and down in a burst, then went back to the horizontal movement. It looked to Genji like a very slow heartbeat. “The message is coming through in exact intervals.”

Jesse frowned and looked at the graph as it moved in real-time, giving another burst of data for several seconds before going back to the dead air. “That doesn’t look like no accident,” He grumbled and looked to Genji. 

Genji felt his mouth go dry. Memories spiked from the recesses of his mind as he watched the spike go again. He knew this trick. He had seen it before. “Talon isn’t keeping a consistent watch on signals,” He stated. “There is a moment of dead air here,” He pointed to the squiggle of lines. “Where they process the information and reboot it to keep jamming signals. It is too short of making a direct connection unless you are lucky and able to start broadcasting right when it pings.”

“How-”

“Old Blackwatch trick,” Jesse growled. “When we wanted the bad guys to think we had gummed up all the frequencies. Reyes would time it to a specific interval, so he could still talk to someone back here in HQ.”

“So,” Winston held onto that last syllable for longer than what was necessary. “What does that mean for us?”

“It means that we know how to get a message back.”

_______

Zenyatta’s fist flew faster than the grunt soldier holding the weapon and launched the orb like a rocket into his face, shattering the front of the helmet. The man behind the armor cursed as he dropped his gun and let his hands fly to his glass-covered eyes. He dropped to his knees and began to claw at the helmet while screaming. 

The first instinct told him to heal the man and to administer all needed first aid. It was quickly overwhelmed with his second instinct that behind him, shoved into a storage closet were several people he held at gunpoint, so the pain was the universe’s way of balancing itself out.

From behind the downed soldier, several timid people stepped out with full, doe-like eyes up at the monk, still dressed in his most beautiful silks.

“Tie him up!” One person whispered, and together, as a group, they pulled the still screaming Talon grunt into the closet and shut him in.

Zenyatta didn’t stay to see what they did with the man next. 

This had been the first sentient guard Zenyatta had seen since the whole ordeal started. After mousing around the corridors and watching the pattern of movement from the other Talon soldiers, he had aimed to remove them slowly, one by one.

It started with the small bots at the doors and windows that scanned for lifeforms. The first one was taken out with a quick launch and retrieval of one of the orbs around Zenyatta as a test. With the front of the bot smashed out, there was no doubt that it was attacked. He stayed back in the shadows and watched for any sign of movement. Signal for them may have been out, but that did not mean Talon didn’t have their own way to communicate. 

But no one came immediately.

Soon enough, one of the sentry guards rounded the corner, like clockwork. As it passed by where the bot was posted, it stopped and turned, lumbering over to its dead form and scanned. It was there for less than a minute before the grunt turned and continued down its path.

Zenyatta did not stay to see what came next. It was clear that at the end of the sentry grunt’s round, there would be a living operative to take note of any abnormalities, and soon this hallway would have a real person.

“-Hear me?” The voice of Lena came through his earpiece clearer than ever before. “There we are! I think I got a line through, Hello? Is anyone out there?”

“Yes!” Came the boisterous reply of Reinhardt. “It is good to hear your voice, Tracer!” There was a loud, thunderous crash followed by Reinhardt’s equally measurable laugh. “Take that!”

“It’s good to know at least one of us is having a good time,” Jack grunted through the comm, sounding breathless and worn, but alive.

Zenyatta allowed himself to relax. “Is there any word from Angela?” He asked, giving them the knowledge that he, too, was alive. 

“Ja,” Reinhardt answered. “I saw her yelling at Hanzo about his lack of mortal preservation. I-”

“We don’t have long to talk,” Lena interrupted. “Talon doesn’t know I have broken through their signal jammer, and I want to keep this open for as long as possible. I have contacted Winston, do your best, and stay safe.”

A thousand questions ran through his mind like, why was Talon here, or what did they want? How many people were safe? Did you realize that most of the enemy is nothing more than an elaborate computer system? How many of Talon was thinking, sentient creatures, and how many were these mindless drones he had passed? Did you know they are not scanning for omnic life? Could Null Sector be involved?

Where is your position?

Everything Zenyatta wanted to ask would only bring on more danger. For all Zenyatta knew, Talon wanted them to break the code and start talking. It would give Talon everything Overwatch knew about them, and that could easily be used to turn against them.

Winston was aware, which meant Genji knew.

It would be fine.

What Zenyatta needed to do now was to find the others, regroup, and attack.

_______

It was useless to stay in the lab. Genji worried, but Winston quickly shoved both McCree and himself out the moment that Lena had managed to get through with a brief, vocalized message. So far, they were all safe. Talon had been playing a big game, scaring people, but so far, all injuries were surface level.

Talon was there to spook the populous and probably did not know Overwatch would be coming in with a team. It wasn’t as if Overwatch was on any roster, Winston recounted. Angela and Zenyatta were the only two invited, and Dr. Ziegler was a name that popped up in forums all over the world. Talon would have given no thought to a low-level Shambali like Zenyatta as well, as far as they were concerned, the Widowmaker had decimated the order.

McCree reasoned that the reason they had been ejected was that they had intimidated Winston. He was a man you wanted on the battlefield, and he was an expert in his field, but being forced to do nothing while your friends and family were in danger was not a role Genji envied. 

They had passed Ana on their way out. At least he was not completely alone.

Genji hadn’t wanted to stay there anyway. The stress of watching the same non-news report on the even over and over was even more unnerving than turning it off and walking away. Every time the screen cut back to the blonde anchor behind the desk, he half expected some update that never came. The words ‘Breaking News’ flashed over and over. All it did was give him a glimmer of hope that there would be some new development or some answers. 

Neither came.

McCree knocked his shoulder against Genji’s. “Come on,” He nodded in the direction of his room. “I don’t want you bein’ alone right now. Ya ain’t good when you wallow.”

“I don’t-” He started, but Jesse cut him off.f

“Maybe I might know a back door to get in,” He said. 

“Get in?”

“Reyes was a hard-headed jackass most of the time, and now he may be some international terrorist, but...a man has principles, and maybe I’m not ready to give up all of Reyes’ secrets. Lord knows Jack hasn’t given a fraction of Overwatch’s secrets over, so why should I?”

Genji gaped, wide-eyed and mouth dropped open. “Jesse-”

The cowboy held a hand up to stop Genji from continuing. “I,” He shook his head and collected himself before continuing. “He taught me things, Genji. Things he didn’t want anyone else knowing about, ya hear? He was the first person to give a damn about me, and I ain’t ready to give up on him. Reyes left that code right there in the open for Winston to find, yeah? I gotta think there is more to it.”

Genji nodded and shut his mouth. For all McCree’s faults, loyalty was not one of them. He would trust Reyes right on up to when the man pointed a gun at his head. It did not matter what Angela or Ana or even Jack said about the former Blackwatch commander, McCree still believed in him. He had to. “Just promise me,” Genji spoke quietly. “If it looks like we can help in any way, we take this to Winston.”

Jesse gave one quick nod. “If I see anything, I’ll take it to Ana.”

It was a compromise, but Genji could believe in McCree’s word. “Would you be willing to tell me what the plan is?”

There was a pain in Jesse’s eyes as he led Genji back to his room, never once looking over at him. “Reyes kept a lot of trade secrets, but for whatever reason, he started teachin’ me shit that year after Reyes shot Bartalotti out that window. I think he knew Blackwatch was comin’ to an end, and that all that shit was comin’ to light about Blackwatch.”

He punched in the keycode on the door, an elaborate string of numbers that Genji could not keep up with, before entering the room. Genji, for his part, remained quiet and listened.

“At the time,” McCree moved over and pulled two glasses down off a shelf, then lifted a half drank bottle of sake and poured a liberal amount for each of them. Genji recognized the label. It was an import of Japan. “There was shit going all over the place, and so much restructuring, what with you getting into Overwatch proper. I was sure that Reyes was tryin’ to keep me on his side, ya know? Like,” Jesse’s body shifted, and his face soured as he gave his best Reyes impression. To his credit, it was fairly spot on, “I knew I screwed the pooch here, kid, but you gotta know we put a lot of time and resources into you.”

Genji took the glass as it was offered and took a sip, letting the drink blossom in warmly inside his chest. “So Reyes taught you classified Blackwatch protocol to make you stay?”

Jesse shrugged and sipped his own as he pulled up his display. “Honestly, I think he knew no matter what happened. His number was up. It was only a matter of time. After that, he distanced himself more from Jack and took on fewer missions personally, then LaCroix was murdered.” 

“I did fall out of the loop when I moved onto Lena and Winston’s team,” Genji agreed. “I think you were the only one left on Reyes’ team for a long while. I just assumed Jack split us up because we were a liability.”

“You were sent away because Reyes and Morrison learned there was a mole in the team,” McCree stated, his fingers plucked away at the keyboard. “At the time, I think Morrison knew it was through Blackwatch, so he decided the best thing to do was to divide the teams and see what was up. No one was going to leave. Not when they were supplying Talon with information, he just needed to narrow down who it was.”

“Too bad for him, he didn’t suspect his own husband,” Genji mumbled behind the glass. For a second, Genji was sure he saw red behind that one eye of his as McCree shot him a look that could have shattered glass. “We’re all thinking it.”

Jesse rolled his eyes and turned to face his computer, turning his back on Genji, but he didn’t respond. It was hard to argue with facts, even if you didn’t want to believe them. After a moment’s silence, Jesse let out a deep sigh and said, “Reyes left open a few back doors on missions, ways for whoever was back on base and knew where to find them to get in.”

“Like the signal,” Genji nodded.

“Reyes always said he kept a few because Jack liked to keep an eye on him,” He turned to look at Genji. “There are other back doors, Genji, and we can find a way to get in.”

“Jess, we don’t have confirmation that Reyes is even there,” Genji sighed. “To believe that the original signal didn’t get through because of a Talon oversight is one thing, but...what you are suggesting is that Reyes is internally sabotaging Talon’s efforts is, well, it’s unhinged!”

“Maybe so, but we have to try,” Jesse said. “And maybe Reyes doesn’t think I remember any of this. Maybe he is using the signal still because it is familiar, and it works, who knows. All I know is that I want to try.”

Genji looked down at the sake in his hands and relented. “So what will this do? Patch us into their comms so we can talk to them?”

“Do you one better,” He smirked. “Reyes was always clear; Jack liked keeping an eye on him.”

“Don’t tell me you are going to hack into the security cameras.”

“Fine, I won’t tell you.”

Genji felt something warm against his stomach. He reached into the pouch on his hoodie and held the orb tightly in both his hands as he watched McCree work.

________

Finding Angela had been more straightforward than Zenyatta thought it would be. She had purposely been captured and was sitting in the large ballroom. She had constructed a make-shift hospital out of tables, chairs, and whatever other pieces of the hotel she could manage. In her hands was a small device that glowed yellow as she waved it slowly up and down a frail-looking scientist’s arm.

Zenyatta stood outside the doors and watched, near a pair of the bots that only searched for organic life. Getting in, he reasoned, would be simple, but he was sure if there were any sentient guards, they would be in the place where they kept hostages.

His reasonings were confirmed as he watched one of the black-clad guards lift a hand to his covered face as if to hide a yawn. The guard next to him nudged him hard and turned, speaking to him briefly before turning back to look at the crowd. 

“Dr. Ziegler,” Zenyatta took a chance and spoke through the comms directly to her. “Are you all right?”

Angela did not make a move to look around the room. Instead, she turned to the next person in line for her and sat them down before speaking at them. “There are seven guards in here, they have been aggressive, but have agreed to let me and other doctors treat wounds.”

“Is there anything serious?”

“A few concussions and a broken collarbone due to falling debris. I believe Dr. Morrison may have sustained a gunshot wound, but that is only a rumor.” She patted the woman’s arm after finishing bandaging her and moved onto the next person who had dried blood along their hairline. “Quite odd.”

Zenyatta hummed in agreement. It was odd that Talon resorted to these fear tactics when, in the past, taking a human life did not seem to waiver them in the slightest. It stood to reason that if Talon were looking to strike fear into the world, killing pacifists, scientists, and humanitarians at a conference based around world peace would have been sufficient.

It meant Talon wanted something else, and human lives would only complicate their goal.

“Oh,” Angela let out a long sigh and looked up as a Talon guard moved over to her. “I wish I knew if my colleagues were all right, especially Dr. Morrison. He is so near retirement age. I do hope he is all right.” She smiled up pleasantly at the black, emotionless mask before turning back to the woman in front of her. She acted unafraid in their presence as if this was just another emergency medical tent, and Talon did not affect her.

“I’ll see what I can find,” Zenyatta said before disconnecting the line. He looked at the two bots by him curiously, then again to the room. Why were they not programed to see him? 

There was no time to question those things. 

Outside, the sun had finally set and took away all the remaining light. The hotel had not turned on their overhead lights. He wondered if Talon had cut off the lights themselves, or if that were the police. From the large windows, he could see the red and blue flashing lights from down the way. Emergency vehicles lined the streets and watched on, without anyone moving closer to the building. Talon must have sent them a message, telling them not to get nearer or people would start to die. 

Several rooms illuminated with overhead, mechanical lights from drones, signaling immediately which of the conference spaces were jails for the hostages, and which places were left empty.

Zenyatta dimmed the lights of his array down to barely a glow, trying his best to hide his movements as he crouched down and tip-toes through the debris.

He could have floated, he reasoned. It was utterly silent, and he would not have to watch his step, but doing so also expelled a lot of energy. No, he would conserve that and put it into the weapons that floated around his neck.

He took stock in the knowledge he had; Angela was captured on purpose, but safe. Lena was near the Orca still, transmitting to Winston and the authorities what had happened. Reinhardt was probably having the time of his life, smashing robots and breaking skulls somewhere else, and that was perhaps the reason for the light security now was to try and stop the rampaging German. Hanzo was AWOL, but probably silently taking out as many operatives as he could. Like Reinhardt, he probably found a thrill with the mayhem. Finally, Morrison was shot, possibly, and bleeding somewhere, Angela was not sure.

All in all, it could have been worse. It appeared as if Zenyatta was the only reasonable one to find whoever was in charge and stop them. It seemed as if there were no other choices.

Nervously, he continued.

_______

Jesse had to turn off the lights. It had taken them some time to breach the security, and they had found a way to route the feed of the cameras to his display. It took even more time for the pair to realize that it was not his set up that was wrong; it was the fact that the hotel was pitch black.

It was just as Reyes had taught him. The man had not changed his tactics as all. To Genji, that was more unnerving than learning that Reyes still employed the same techniques he taught Jesse without changing a single line of code.

With just a press of a button, Jesse was able to filter through each security camera until they found one with light.

Talon had employed drones to light their paths, which made a lot of sense. They already had set up a perimeter, and they had reasonably scared away any local law enforcement from entering, so they held control. Taking away the safety of light was the final straw in their fear tactics.

“Police could use snipers,” Jesse grunted as they watched a single grunt walk down one of the long hallways, a drone hovered over his head, illuminating the path in front of him as he patrolled.

“Not likely,” Genji motioned to the outer area. “The hotel was built on a wetlands area, and the nature preserve is lower than everything here. You may get a sniper in the grass, but I doubt it would be effective.”

McCree gripped the half drank glass harder and nodded. “Bad for snipers, got it.”

Genji smirked and rolled his eyes. “Hanzo is probably having the time of his life. It is dark, secluded, and he can snap necks with just his forearm. Ten bucks says he will come back and humblebrag about how many he took out unarmed.” 

Jesse chuckled and looked up at the monitor, flipping through several more black cameras. "Maybe he would even be into giving a demonstration."

Genji raised an eyebrow at the strange comment, but something caught his eye. “Wait, go back one,” Genji sat forward and squinted. “Did you see that?”

“Talon mook loitering around a corner?” McCree humored him and moved back to the previous camera, but overall sounded unimpressed. “Ain’t nothing spectacular.” 

Genji squinted. The Talon agent strolled down the hallway with a significant drone overhead, a circle of light flooded around him. He walked almost unimpressed and bored with the whole experience as if to say that this patrol was unnecessary since they had rounded up everyone in the conference. 

“Genj,” McCree groaned a little and rubbed his tired eyes. “It’s just a mook. Watching him walk ain’t going to tell us anything we don’t already know.”

“No!” Genji hissed out in a whisper and moved closer. “Behind him,” He touched the screen. “Here.”

McCree frowned and leaned forward himself. In the darkness, yellow lights like fireflies glowed and danced behind him, soft and almost invisible. The Talon agent turned to look behind him, and they dimmed to nothingness.

“What in the world-?”

Quickly, the body language of the Talon agent shifted, his eyes darted back in front of him as he raised his gun with both hands, his shoulders tightened, and he widened his stance. His gaze flickered back and forth. Something whizzed under the light of the drown, casting a fast-moving shadow over him before it was gone.

Then something struck the goon in the back. Hard. Genji watched as the gun skid across the floor and out of the light as another fast-moving projectile slammed into his stomach, then his face, knocking the masked helmet clean off, revealing his sweaty and slack face.

The grunt fell to the ground and did not move.

And something pulsed in Genji’s pocket. Genji’s hands reached in and grasped the orb, feeling the hot energy vibrate through it as a final sphere slammed into the man’s face. 

“What was that?” McCree shot out, standing up so fast his chair knocked back. “What the fuck!”

Genji smiled. He squeezed the orb in his hands tighter. “That’s my guy,” He whispered as Zenyatta stepped into the light. He recalled the spheres with a motion with his hand and crouched next to the prone figure. His gaze turned up to the drone above, still casting its light over them.

Another flick of Zenyatta’s wrist and everything went dark on the screen once again.

“What the absolute fuck was that!” McCree shouted, looking at Genji with bewilderment. “Did you know he could do that?”

In his pocket, the orb glowed with yellow light. Genji smiled.

________

Zenyatta found comfort in the darkness. The Talon soldier had been knocked unconscious, probably with a nasty concussion, but he was not dead. He dragged the man to a corner of the hallway and slipped him behind some furniture. He would easily be found by medical professionals the moment that this all finished, but it would be more difficult for another one of those drone lights to see him now.

Personally, he did not like the idea of sneaking around and playing the assassin. There were still far too many risks, and he was sure to come across many omnics and humans that could easily overpower him. Still, he could not just stand around and do nothing. Angela was doing her part by aiding those in need, and the people trapped and scared did not require spiritual care at this moment.

“Any news?” Zenyatta whispered into his comm. 

“I haven’t heard from 76 in a while,” Tracer said, a hint of worry in her voice. “Angela overheard some Talon mooks talking about capturing several bodyguards, and how one was especially difficult to subdue, so I think they have Reinhardt.”

“Temporarily,” Reinhardt grunted. “They can’t hold me for long.”

There was an audible sigh of relief from the pilot. “Hey, big guy, what’d they do to you?”

“I took out seven of them,” Reinhardt chuckled. He could hear a hitch in his laughter, though, as if the action pained him. “While another four shoved me into a meat locker and locked the door. To be fair, I don’t think they intended me to use steak to stop the swelling on my eye, but I am planning on bringing some home with me.”

“I’d ask where you are, Zen, but I don’t fully trust that they aren’t tracking our chatter,” Lena said. “I haven’t heard at all from Hanzo or Jack. I don’t know if they have been captured or killed.”

“As if it would be that easy to kill me,” Hanzo scoffed. “And keep quiet. Do you want them tracking your signal, fool.” 

The communication went silent after that, but Zenyatta found peace in knowing that Hanzo was safe as well. He felt the warm hands of Genji caressing over him, holding him close in the darkness. He wanted to send a message into the dark, to let his student know he was safe and well. To tell Genji not to worry.

But now was not the time,

________

So far, McCree was able to access visual identifications on four of the away team. They expected to find Lena in the Orca but instead found her in the garage with a hot-wired car radio on the upper level. It made sense in hindsight, why would their airship be docked in a car park? Talon soldiers paraded around the outer perimeter of the garage, but never once did they go inside.

Angela was in a fully lit room, surrounded by scared scientists and doctors, all seeking immediate medical support for minor injuries. Angela seemed to be keeping the guards busy, though, demanding more space and supplies to care for the people there correctly, and, to McCree’s surprise, they were listening, giving her space to lay people out on the floor. There were even several running towels for her. 

Genji wasn’t as surprised. Angela could command a room with her jargon, making even a papercut seem like life and death. Talon was not here looking for death. They also stood clear of her as she talked to her patients. 

Reinhardt was locked in a walk-in fridge. Outside, McCree found several scared-looking Talon agents watching the metal door with the same care a person gave if there were a charging Rhino locked up and not a bruiser German. Inside the freezer, Reinhardt seemed to be doing well for himself. He had a frozen steak up to his eye and was seated next to a keg of what Genji could only assume was beer. He was certain Reinhardt had claimed these as spoils of battle. 

For now, the old lion sat waiting and watching the door for any sign of movement. Reinhardt may have had age on each of the men outside, but Genji knew the old lion would take them all on and beat them every time.

Zenyatta was still sneaking through the halls, poking his head in and out of darkened rooms, probably watching for Talon agents and taking down any he saw patrolling. So far, Genji counted five footmen; all flanked and struck down by Zenyatta. He couldn’t have been prouder.

Jack and Hanzo both still alluded to the camera. Worry spiked inside Genji at the notion of not finding his brother as quickly as the other, but Hanzo’s handiwork could be seen. Remains of sensor arrows fragmented and stuck into the walls at angles Genji recognized. He took it as a sign that his brother was still alive, as well as fighting.

“He is a ninja after all,” McCree said. Genji hadn’t the heart to tell him Hanzo was more of an assassin than the Hollywood style ninja McCree was picturing. Still, it seemed to comfort McCree hearing himself say it.

“Still no Jack, though?” Genji asked.

“No Jack,” McCree confirmed. “We have flipped through the cameras dozens of times now, and we have a clear path to where Zenyatta is going next, but not a single sighting of Jack at all. 

That was more worrying than anything. Jack was not a quiet man; he did not sneak around in empty hallways and ambush enemies. Jack was like a tornado, you could hear him coming, and he would leave destruction in his wake. Not being able to find him could only mean two things; he had been captured, or he was dead.

McCree tabbed again through the cameras, leaving only a few seconds between each screen. Genji watched as the same halls and rooms repeated’ Empty hall, deserted room, Angela, Conference room B, Lena, Empty hotel lobby, room 1, Goons in the kitchens, Reinhardt in the freezer, restaurant proper 1, restaurant proper 2, room 2, room 3, flickering light, Empty hall, repeat.

The pattern stuck in his mind as Jesse kept going, knowing right when he would be able to see at least 5 of his teammates. 

“Wait,” Genji blinked. “Did you see that?” 

“Which one?”

“Go back two,” He sat forward. “That room is the same as the previous room.”

McCree frowned and pulled it back to the previous two, then forward one.

The problem with conference rooms was that they all tended to look the same. Hotels, no matter which room you went into, kept a consistent shape and size, especially for small meeting rooms. The furniture was the same; rows of chairs in front of the main presentation table, draping curtains hang down from the windows with the ability to close and block out any light, like the dot of blue that blinked outside the window.

“What is that?” Jesse frowned and leaned in.

“Sonar,” Genji smirked. “Hanzo.”

Jesse flipped back to the other camera and tsked as the same blue blinking light appeared in the same place. The same camera feed. “Damn, how did I not see this before.”

“I missed it as well,” Genji sat back. “What does it mean?”

“It means that someone is messing with the feed, they don’t want us seein’ this room.”

“I know that,” Genji huffed and rolled his eyes. “Now that we know it’s there, can we override it?”

McCree brought the nearly empty glass to his lips and held it there, lost in thought. “It may take me a moment, but I might be able to figure this out.” He swiped a hand up and brought up a second screen for Genji to keep watching.

It didn’t take long for him to tab through the cameras and find Zenyatta, still cautiously making his way down the halls, opening doors and looking into the room after room.

Mentally, Genji had mapped out the layout of the circular conference area of the hotel well enough to know there were no more guards on patrol around the area. There were no longer any bots that hung in the air and cast light. 

But still, he could see the snippet of light that haloed Zenyatta as he moved, like fireflies dancing around his head as he walked down the hall, opening doors and looking into rooms for something, Genji did not know what.

Genji switched cameras, centering Zenyatta again.

Worry coursed through Genji as he watched as Zenyatta slowly opened door after door, finding nothing and moving on.

Until…

Genji gasped as another door cracked open, and a sliver of yellow light spilled out into the darkness.

“Got it!” McCree hooted loudly, and Genji looked to the second screen, where the room was brightly lit and there, in the center of the room, lay a prone form in a familiar blue and white jacket. Above him stood a figure cloaked in black with what looked like an owl’s skull as its face.

“Fuck!” McCree scrambled to his feet, knocking the chair over as he reached for his comm. “Winston!” He shouted.

Genji stopped listening, though, as in the corner of the camera, he saw the door creak open slowly to the dark hall and the lithe figure with fireflies that danced around his head.

“Fuck,” Genji whispered.

_______

“Aw, Jackie,” The growling, guttural voice of the Reaper echoes off the walls in a hollow, unnatural way as the form circled the prone body of Jack Morrison. It was like it floated just above the ground, with black tendrils of smoke billowing out the edges of his black cloak. “I always knew you liked being on your knees in front of me.”

Zenyatta flattened himself against the wall just outside the room. He listened.

Jack gave a cough that was both wet and dry all at once. He recognized the sound of someone who had the wind knocked from their lungs but had a mouth full of blood. “Fuck off.”

Zenyatta craned his head to the side and looked on. 

Slowly, Jack pushed himself up onto his forearms and spat out a mouth full of blood. Baby blue eyes looked up with an icy fierceness that Zenyatta had not seen before. He snarled up at the creature. “And you are still a fucking tease. Just get on with it.”

The room was trashed. Broken tables and chairs lay in shambles against the walls. Rounds of birdshot were lodged deep into the walls and area burns from pulse rifle munitions. Both scattered with smatterings of dried blood. One guess was who sustained the brunt of the injuries.

The Reaper slowly circled Jack, staying just out of the man’s reach as he continued to taunt him. “I figured that after we have all been through, you would be more, hmm, pleased to see me.”

“Fuck off!” 

“Such language, Boy Scout,” The reaper gave another dark laugh. “What would your mother think?”

“She would tell you to fuck off and that I could find someone better.” Zenyatta saw it, the faint sliver of a teasing smirk in Jack’s eyes as his busted lip curled up in what could only be described as a flirtatious smirk.

The floor behind Zenyatta creaked. He turned in a flash, his orbs illuminating brilliant gold before three shot out into the dark like little pixies from hell and landed with a hard thud against something fleshy and groaning before collapsing loudly to the floor.

Adrenaline spiked inside Zenyatta as he turned back to the open door, and to the two bewildered-looking men that stared at him. It was as if he had walked in on their elaborate foreplay and not an execution.

Knowing Agent Morrison and the Reaper’s history, though, it was probably a mixture of both.

The three gawked at each other for much longer than deemed necessary, apparently unsure what to do now. Zenyatta flicked his wrist and summoned the three absent orbs back to him, and waited. Surely, Jack would use this to his advantage. He would pull out that handgun he kept strapped to his hip, and finally, actually, use that weapon instead of the pulse rifle. Or was it possible that he would side-sweep the Reaper's legs and send the terrorist tumbling to the ground?

Neither of those happened, though.

“Uh,” Slowly, Reaper looked back to Jack with that dead bone-white mask. “What is-?” He lifted his weapons.

There was no time for him to finish that statement, though, as Zenyatta’s hands shot up, and two orbs flew out, slamming hard into the Reaper’s wrists. 

He cried out in alarm and dropped the weapons before he seemed to melt into the rug as a dark mass, like smoke billowing out. His two shotguns hissed and seemed to bubble and sizzle as they melted down into that same primordial smoke of their master and dissipated into nothing.

Zenyatta didn’t waste time. He moved over to Jack and began to pull him up to his feet.

“I thought you were captured,” Surprise was evident in the old soldier’s gruff voice before he coughed again and put a hand to his abdomen. Birdshot had broken through the leather layers of the ‘76’ jacket, and Zenyatta could see red staining below.

“No,” He answered, pulling one of the globes revolving around him and sent it to Jack. The Nano healing technology would not be enough to fix the wounds, but it would be enough to keep the man stable.

“How did you-” Another dry cough took his breath away.

“We can answer those questions later, Agent Morrison. Right now, we need to leave before the Reaper-”

“The Reaper, what?” A chill filled the room as the black mass re-emerged. Slowly, the black smoke curled along the walls, creeping its way closer to them. The voice came from everywhere and nowhere. The man, the Reaper, swirled around before stepping out of a cloud of swirling black and violet smog. His heavy boots clicked on the floor as he reached into his long coat and withdrew two shotguns. “

Zenyatta had no choice but to drop Jack. Both hands shot out, and two more orbs launched themselves at the Reaper.

This time, the Reaper had been preparing for the attack. He sidestepped both projectiles with the grace of a dancer as he lifted both guns and fired.

________

“No!” Genji shouted and clung to the edges of the display as he watched Zenyatta leap out of the way of the duel blast. There was no way that he had escaped a blast that close without taking some damage.

Genji felt his heart pounding wildly in his chest as the monster de-corporealized once again and spun around the room.

God, how he wished there were sound, so he could hear his Master’s voice. He could know what that thing was and what it wanted.

Was it even Reyes?

Everything inside Genji wished it not to be true, that the creature they were fighting was some boogyman from a nightmare and not his former commander. Not the man that had helped to mend his heart and showed him what a real family looked like.

Beside him, Jesse was screaming into his phone, telling Winston everything they were watching right now. He could hear the absolute distress in his voice, and it broke his heart.

Genji pressed his forehead against the screen. The orb hummed as it rolled along the desktop. It came to rest against the edge of the display and pulsed slightly with golden light.

_______

There was a ringing in Zenyatta’s head, a consistent, high pitched wail that slowed to a monotonous hum as he sat up and held his head. The room was spinning, and the lights overhead twinkled and chimed.

“Really, Jack? Your last line of defense is a pacifist monk?”

Both hands rubbed against his optical sensors with a hope that the pressure would re-calibrate them enough, so the room stopped spinning on its axis. A quick scan of himself showed that most of the damage was to his exterior, and nothing was more severe than a few replaced wires and some buffering.

How had he managed that?

Jack said something low that Zenyatta could not hear, but he was sure it had to be another retort. 

It seemed all the two ever did was banter, shoot at each other, threaten, then build more sexual tension. There had been a rumor that the two acted like an old married couple back when they had run Overwatch. Zenyatta was quickly assuming that all of this was just a terrible midlife crisis, and they were all pawns.

God, if this were a trashy romance novel, Zenyatta would have been interested in the slow-burning dynamics of the pair. But this wasn’t fiction. The Reaper had killed before, and he was toying with Jack like a cat that caught the canary.

But there was something else. Someone else was in the room. Zenyatta looked around and only found the pair anger-flirting in front of him. It was not right. He could sense a fourth presence in the room.

There was a glimmer of violet and fuchsia. The walls seemed to melt and open, revealing a woman dressed in purple and black latex. Her eye caught Zenyatta’s, and she smiled. “Hola,” She said with a teasing wave of her fingers before she looked back at the pair in the center.

“Go away, Sombra,” The Reaper growled, not looking away from the soldier on the ground in front of him. Under his mask, his expression would have been an identical match to the snarl Jack wore.

Sombra looked at her artificially long nails, as if already bored with the whole scene. “Finish up here, Gabe. It’s time to go.”

The Reaper turned his head a fraction to look at the woman, before turning back to Jack. “Fine,” He lifted his weapons once again. “It’s been fun, Jackie.”

Zenyatta reacted. He clenched his fist tight, focusing all the energy he could, before he launched his orbs directly at the Reaper, striking him hard and fast over and over with all seven of the spheres.

The Reaper flew back, smashing against the wall next to Sombra. The woman stepped to the side as Zenyatta retrieved his weapon and slowly stood. His body ached from the blast of the shotgun earlier, but there was time for that later. He stepped forward and raised his fists again.

“Oooh, Gabito, are you going to stand for that?” She taunted. Sombra’s eyes twinkled as she looked between the pair. “Quit playing with your food and eat it already.”

Slowly, methodically, the Reaper turned his gaze towards Zenyatta. The black hood that had been covering his head slipped down around his shoulders, revealing the fractured surface of the bone-white mask, chipping away and revealing one cold, black eye.

He took a clumsy step forward before falling back against the wall again. The Reaper’s hand reached up and braced himself against the structure, his long claws biting into the plaster and wallpaper. “You-” He started. 

A second wave of seven balls shot out, but the monster had prepared this time, once again collapsing to the ground as nothing more than a shadow. 

The inky black pool of vapor crawled against the floor, looking like nothing more than a shadow as it passed by Morrison and kept going, creeping closer and closer to Zenyatta.

Until it stopped. 

A clawed arm shot out and scratched against the floors, screaming as long tracks were torn up in their wake before a second arm emerged from that hole, like a demon mauling open its grave. The Reaper pulled himself up, the mask on his face falling away as he snarled in anger, revealing something beyond human.

Jack made a cry of anguish as the beast pulled himself free, smoke billowing around him, and choking the air with the smell of something rancid.

Sombra dashed. She raised a hand as she moved straight for Jack as if she were ready to throw something down. Zenyatta could see something clutched tightly in her hand. Something metallic and blinking and…

“Enough!” Zenyatta screamed, raising both his hands up as if the simple gesture would have been enough to stop anyone.

But it did.

The world seemed to slow as the world bathed in deep, golden light. It seemed to sparkle off his body, radiating away from his core. He could feel it now, like arms tendrilling away from his body and pushing away all the ill of the world. It was like he was swimming in liquid gold.

The Reaper screamed out as if the miraculous golden aura was overwhelming. He covered his face, clutching to his scalp with those taloned fingers. Like a vampire, burned by the sun, he shrank away.

Zenyatta took a step towards the monster. He could feel the light within him, healing his soul and warming his heart. The fear and anger melted away with each lingering step he took towards the cowering creature. 

Jack took in a deep breath, his lungs no longer rattling as he pushed himself to his feet and lifted the edge of his shirt up, looking at the drying blood against his skin. “How?” He asked.

This power would not last, Zenyatta knew as he took another step closer to the Reaper. But he could feel the warm, healing rays emanating from his body. He could feel every emotion of every person in this room, the anger, and betrayal melding itself into forgiveness and healing. 

Love.

The Reaper fell to his knees, clutching and clawing at his heart as he panted loudly, angrily, his dark black eyes turning on Zenyatta. 

For a moment, he saw that pain drain away. For a moment, Zenyatta could see the man that once existed and still lived deep inside the husk of the Reaper. If only…

Zenyatta reached out with a hand.

If only he could touch him.

Something inside Zenyatta told him that it would be enough that the simple gesture would be enough to mend this broken man and bring him back to the people he loved.

Sombra’s hand dropped to her side as she watched in awe. “How?” She whispered and looked down at Jack.

Then, as quickly as it started, Zenyatta felt it fade. The warmth dulled just a little, and the golden glow that lit up the room like the sun-faded back to the artificial coldness of the LEDs.

The spell broke. 

“This isn’t over,” With a final, howl of rage, the Reaper melted into the floor once again with his black eyes staring deep into Zenyatta’s own. And he was gone.

The reaper dissolved into shadows and let out a howl of rage. All Zenyatta can see in the aftermath is his glowing red eyes.

“Well, that was fun.” Zenyatta turned and looked at the woman standing next to Jack. She opened the blinking compact in her hand and powered her nose. “Such a drama queen, don’t you agree? Well, I’ll make sure to look after him, Jackie.” 

With a final, flippant wave, the air around Sombra crackled, and then, she disappeared with a zap.

Finally, alone, Zenyatta moved over to Jack, putting his arm around Zenyatta’s shoulders to keep him upright as the man collapsed. “Don’t know what that was,” Jack crocked. “But if you have been messing with Angela’s healing technology, don’t tell her. She hates it when people make their own first aid kits.” He chuckled, then winced in pain, grabbing his side once again. “Nope, not all better.”

The overhead alarm system beeped, then whooped to live as the lights out in the hall flickered back on. “Ah, it seems we have power once again.” Zenyatta looked up and momentarily wondered if that power that came from him had anything to do with that.

“Is everyone all right?” Lena’s voice burst clear as day through the comms. “What happened in there? Talon is just gone! What did you do?”

________

Genji let out a whoop and knocked the hat off the McCree’s head as he watched Zenyatta carry Jack out of the room on his shoulders. “Did you see that!” He pointed. “Did you see!” 

McCree dropped down into his chair like a stone and let out a sigh. “Yeah, I saw.” He smiled.

Something spectacular had happened, but Genji was not sure what that magnificent thing was.

It started with his orb. 

There was a golden glow that surrounded it grew in intensity with every blow Zenyatta landed against the Reaper. Then, suddenly, the whole room flared with intense light. 

McCree had to shield his eyes, but Genji could not look away as the warmth and love blazed through him. It was like a raging fire that seethed and burned him to his core, and, at that moment, he knew everything would be all right. 

Genji held the now silent orb to his chest, feeling the rhythmic hum of its natural state against his chest.

Everything was going to be alright…

_______

As it turned out, local law enforcement had no want or need for Overwatch in the aftermath. Overwatch’s presence at the conference was what had prompted the attack, the news claimed. It had been a blow to their morale, as they packed up their remaining items and checked out the old fashioned way of “leaving before anyone remembers we were here,” As Reinhardt claimed. 

Zenyatta had assumed the people would have welcomed them as heroes, but it was less of a heroes' welcome and more of a deep apathy. The people he had seen huddled in corners the night before refused to even look at the Overwatch team as they made their way through the lobby and out the door.

Physically and mentally, Zenyatta ached in a way unfamiliar to him. He wanted to make it back to the base, crawl under the covers of Genji’s bed and just lay there for at least a week. The rest of the team looked just as haggard as he felt. Reinhardt currently was seated on the floor in front of Angela, sporting a rather large bruise along the side of his face. The older man’s shoulders slumped forward in exhaustion, but still, he recounted his tale. 

Lena had docked the Orca at the upper level of the parking garage. It would have been easier than trying to get a taxi to the airport and trying to get through the amped-up security. Zenyatta was not sure it was precisely legal to leave a country this way, but damaging a hotel and being held hostage was also illegal.

Hanzo sat in a corner, his arms crossed tightly over his chest and frowning. He shifted, and Angela shot him a seething look that put him right back in his place. The assassin winced slightly, gripping onto his arm tightly.

Of all the team members, Hanzo’s location was still the only one that was still a mystery, but it was still impossible to hide the noticeable limp and the swollen nose. Lena had asked him what had happened. She was answered with a scowl.

Jack clapped Zenyatta on the back. “You did good work out there, kid.” He dropped into the seat next to him and let out a grunt of discomfort. “Don’t take what they are saying too harshly.”

“What?”

“I know that look. You are questioning why the media is acting as if we were the bad guys, am I right?”

Zenyatta looked over at the man. “I don’t understand what happened last night.”

“How did Talon get away with it?” Jack smiled and winced. He reached up and touched the bright purple bruise forming around his eye. “How did they manage to get away so cleanly without a single one getting arrested. Is that it?”

“What was the point of it all?”

Jack gave a lazy shrug. “Who knows what the point is with Talon. So far, nothing was stolen but a few research scientists academic papers and a keg of beer, though my guess is the latter is unrelated to Talon.”

Zenyatta chuckled. 

“Honestly, if I had to wager a guess, Talon did this to make Overwatch look toothless. We came with three highly popular and decorated soldiers, and each one was humiliated last night. I think the news is going to run with that story for a while, but that doesn’t last. The criticisms hardly ever stick for long.”

The engines roared to life. 

Once they were up in the air, Jack moved closer to Angela and began to chat with her and Reinhardt in their hushed tones, the three of them smiling like it was old times once again.

“Ladies, Gentlemen, and omnics,” Lena smiled and called down from the cockpit. “I just got off the phone with Winston, and the commander has cleared open communications. Please, for the comfort of others, excuse yourselves to the back of the ship and into the communications room for any personal calls, thank you, and have a safe flight.”

No one moved.

Angela’s scathing glare to the three men in her care kept them pinned in place. “No one leaves until I am convinced that none of you have any broken bones or internal bleeding. I will not have you dying on me because you decided to make a booty call.”

The comment was directed at Reinhardt, who had the decency to look scandalized, but Zenyatta’s gaze was on the suddenly brick-red face of Hanzo. “I...can wait.” The archer swallowed hard and leaned back in his chair.

Oh, that was a thing.

“Then, can I assume the communications are free for me to use?” Zenyatta asked. The three others nodded. Zenyatta stood and headed to the back. He paused and turned back, looking directly at Hanzo. “I will make sure to tell your brother you are coming back alive.” 

Hanzo choked and went a little redder as he glared. “I-Thank you.”

“That...is the only person you talk to on base, yes? And if I relay that information to him, then you will not need to speak to him so suddenly, yes?” 

Zenyatta was acting like an ass, he knew that, but seeing the seething look that could melt metal on Hanzo’s face made it all worth it. 

“No,” Hanzo snarled through clenched teeth. “I guess it doesn’t.”

If Hanzo wanted to deny his feelings, that was on him. As for Zenyatta, he was tired of denying himself. 

He made the call.

________

"Master," Genji started and stopped. He looked down and swallowed. Seeing Zenyatta in front of him serenely seated and unharmed was too much. 

The events from the previous night played in his mind, over and over again on repeat. Even though he knew how the story ended, it still felt surreal. Never could Genji have expected the poise and virility that shone through every strike Zenyatta landed against Talon. 

And it wasn't just Talon. Zenyatta had stared down the Reaper. He had lorded over him and, for the briefest of moments, cast his healing glow upon the man. He stared down a monster with confidence and serenity, and he had come out victorious.

In many ways, it could have gone so horribly wrong.

"I-" Genji started. The words lodged in his throat, threatening to spill out with a wave of emotions that he was not ready to reveal. He settled on smiling wide and gesturing to the man in front of him. 

"I was so worried I would not get a chance to see you again," Zenyatta said the words first. "I was scared, and the whole time, I worried about how my student would fair without me."

Genji laughed, not at anything Zenyatta said or did, but because there was nothing else he could do. Behind his eyes, he felt the prickling of tears form. He pushed them back and ran a hand over his eyes to itch away the emotions. "How is-"

"Everyone is just fine. Reinhardt is sitting in Angela's bionic field to treat his concussion and broken face, and she is currently working on Jack."

"I heard he was shot."

Zenyatta chuckled. "The Reaper got him, yes, but it is minor. Mostly, she keeps calling Jack a pain in her ass because he is refusing treatments and generally acting like a toddler about the whole thing."

Genji laughed harder at that, able to picture in his mind the surly Jack Morrison, demanding Angela pour some whiskey over the wound and bandage him up. He was, after all, an action hero soldier boy. "She is going to sedate him at this rate."

"I am quite sure of it," Zenyatta chuckled.

"And Hanzo?"

"Eagerly awaiting my departure so he may call up the cowboy. " Zenyatta chuckled. "I say we extend our conversation for as long as needed. Your brother needs to learn humility and patience." 

Silence blanketed over them, warm and thoughtful. Genji settled back against his bed, thankful that Winston had allowed these calls to be taken in private. He could not imagine sitting in the open hanger and speaking so freely and so open to Zenyatta where the others could hear. They would have seen this quiet reflection as a waste. But to him, to Genji and Zenyatta, this felt like home.

His master, teacher, and friend was all right. Zenyatta was on his way home, and he was safe. 

Genji looked down at the orb that rolled between his fingers. It glowed.

"I knew you would be safe," Genji smiled and held the orb up into Zenyatta's view. "It was like, as long as I could feel you through this, I knew you would come home to me." Warmth spread through his fingers, emanating from the orb in his hand. Zenyatta felt so close. He curled his arms around the sphere and hugged it to his chest.

"I felt you as well," Zenyatta admitted. He looked down at his own hands and folded them directly in front of him. "Every lasting touch, every desperate ..." He trailed out. "It was like a hand over my heart, Genji. I knew you were with me last night."

Between them hung the unspoken words of care and delight, as soft and soothing as the morning breeze. Genji squeezed the orb tighter, and Zenyatta hummed soothingly in response.

Genji let his head dip to his chest as he closed his eyes, just reveling in the presence of the other, holding that piece of his master close to his own heart. They weren't apart, not really. The distance was an illusion that would soon shatter. "Master I-" he laughed. "I have been worrying myself senseless since you departed. I-"

"Shut up," Zenyatta said it softly, but with so much intensity. "Just shut up and talk to me like you were yourself. No more of this putting on of airs, speak to me like you do everyone else. I...I need to hear you."

Genji looked back to him, whiplashed by the words and the desperation in the tone. He smiled lightly, though, and reached out, touching the monitor to caress the image of Zenyatta. His smile evolved into that coy smirk he wore so well. "I missed you so fucking much."

"Mmm," Zenyatta hummed and leaned forward as he rested his chin on the laced fingers in front of him. "Now, that is the Genji I know. None of this forced formalness. I don't want that. I want you."

Genji mimicked his stance and gave his own hum of approval. "You looked fucking amazing while you took out those bad guys."

Genuinely surprised, Zenyatta sat up. "You saw?"

Nodding enthusiastically, Genji recounted his time with McCree and how he was able to watch the whole thing. He spoke with broad, sweeping gestures, imitating and embellishing the movements of Zenyatta as he spoke. The entire time, Genji wore a wide smile. "It was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen."

Zenyatta sat, enraptured with his story. "If I had known there was an audience, I would have attempted to look more dashing."

"There's no way," Genji settled again, watching Zenyatta with stars in his eyes. "You cannot believe how excited I got watching you. I haven't slept at all. I was lying in bed all night, thinking of you. Recounting what you did. How fucking amazing you looked, standing over the Reaper with so much dominance."

"You like the thought of me being dominant? How...revealing," so much emphasis was placed on that singular word, it shot a jolt of pleasure down Genji's spine and straight into his dick. 

"I-" he choked on the word, feeling his face flush with arousal.

"I can do dominant," There must have been some residual energy stored in Zenyatta circuitry. It was the only explanation for what came out of his mouth next. "Show me how excited you were."

Heat bubbled and pooled inside Genji at the almost husky tone in Zenyatta's voice. The way the other man leaned forward and cocked his head to the side, waiting for Genji to move was more than the ninja could handle. 

There was no coy flirting — no question of intent. "Zen-" Genji gulped and touched the elastic edge of his sweatpants as his heart thudded wildly in his chest a mile a minute in his chest.

"I said strip."

Genji didn't need to need to be told a second time, pulling his pants clean off his body before throwing the Blackwatch sweatshirt off and into a corner. He smiled like a doofus and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. 

Zenyatta had seen him in his cybernetic state before. Everyone had, but he knew this wasn't what his master wanted. He went to work, stripping away at the metal plating that covered his body, revealing scarred and sensitive skin underneath.

"Like this?" Genji teased, being purposely obtuse.

"I want all of it," Zenyatta commanded. "I know what you do in the dark when you think I haven't seen. I want you to show me."

"Fuck," Genji swore as his hand pressed against the plate covering his hardened cock. He unlocked it and pulled it away. Fat and hard, his cock bounced up and slapped against his belly. It was the one place on him untouched with scars. His hand reached down and tugged at his dick, showing off the impressive length to the man seated across from him and hundreds of miles away.

Nights were spent dreaming and agonizing over this exact moment, imagining the demure nature of his beautiful friend. Never in his wildest fantasy had he ever pictured Zenyatta in front of him, demanding his body. Never had he expected such force.

Genji could not think of a time when anyone had commanded him to with that ferocity. Desire spread through him as his eyes locked on Zenyatta. His hand moved slowly, wanting to show him just how much length he had. He had always prided himself on his sexual prowess, why should this be any different.

No, it was different. Zenyatta was not just another sexual conquest for him to win. Zenyatta was his goal. Genji wanted, no needed, Zenyatta to see how eagerly his body responded to those words. 

Zenyatta's hands dropped away. "Tell me how often you have touched yourself while thinking about me?"

"Enough times to drive me mad with desire," Genji replied, his own voice dark and husky. He reclined back a fraction and opened his legs wider, allowing the other to take in the whole sight of his magnificent body. 

His hand moved slowly, pulling down the foreskin under the wet tip of his head, showing off how shiny it was with pre already. Then, he worked his hand back up, moaning with the long, slow pull of his cock. "So good," He panted. "God, I want you."

"In time," Zenyatta huffed. 

Genji did not need to see his hands to know what Zenyatta was doing just out of his line of sight. Something rippled through him, like an electrical current as he watched the omnic on his screen. "Are you touching yourself as well, Master?"

Zenyatta trembled, starting at his shoulders and moved down his core. "Perhaps."

"May I watch?"

"In time," Zenyatta answered again, as he let out the tiniest of whines before he looked back in alarm to the closed door. "Not now, though. I must keep appearances. "Let me see you. I want you."

How could Genji refuse such an order? 

His free hand traveled along the length of his torso, slowly mapping out the rivets and scars along his chest and stomach. Tweaking his nipples and gasping loudly for only his master to hear, Genji worked at his body, playing with it for Zenyatta's amusement.

"Keep going," Zenyatta ordered. "Touch yourself all over. I want to see it all."

Fingers traveled down to his warm, heavy sack. Genji tugged on it lightly, believing Zenyatta's hand there instead, for once, he did not need to imagine the words the other would say to him. His fingers pressed against his taint, and he let out a low cry as more precum dribbled out of the end of his cock and onto his chest. 

Genji whined. "More, Zen. Please, more." 

"How I wish that were me," Zenyatta grunted. His body quivered, and Genji knew that the other was touching himself as well. Zenyatta's thoughts were only on him. 

"Mmm," Genji rolled his hips and thrust into the warm channel of his hand. "I want you. When you get back, I want you on top of me, Zen. I want to feel everything you are feeling now. I want to touch you all over and make you weep with pleasure."

Zenyatta groaned. His hand jumped up and clutched to the side of the table as his other hand moved faster below. "Genji, I can teach you such wonderful things. I can take you to heights you only dreamed of if you would let me."

"I let you," Genji gasped. 

The end was cresting over him too quickly. He could feel the orgasm building, pulling his balls up tight, even as he relaxed his form. It was not enough time. He needed, wanted more. "P-please, Master."

Without thinking, Genji grabbed the orb and held it close, pressing it against his chest. He could feel the warmth radiating out from it, humming in that beautiful, rhythmic pattern against his overheated flesh. He rolled it down, over his rock hard abs.

Zenyatta moaned, "Genji, oh Genji-"

Down he rolled the orb, over the length of his cock and the swell of his testicles. He pressed it tightly against his taint. All at once, he could feel every vibration of it through his core. He choked, throwing his head back and released the moan trapped inside his chest.

His toes curled as he cried out, rolling his hips faster and faster, each time pressing the sphere against his taint in that glorious way, feeling the vibrations spike up into his prostate. "Yes!"

Zenyatta's free hand shot up, covering over his mouth as that same golden glow from the day before began to radiate from his body. 

All at once, it was as if there were hands all over Genji, grasping at him, clinging to him, touching him. In his hair. Along his lips. Touching and caressing and-

Genji screamed, his back arching up and off the bed as he pressed the orb tighter to his taint. The first long rope of cum splattered against his chest and belly, painting his skin white as he saw nothing but that brilliant gold light that surrounded Zen. That mysterious aura that now cradled and caressed his skin. 

Releasing him.

Genji lay in bliss, not wanting to pull himself away from the warmth that had blanketed over him. Not just yet. He smiled and turned his head to look at Zenyatta. "Mmm, you ok?"

"Better," Zenyatta hummed and slumped down against the desk in front of him. "So much better than ok."

Genji laughed and brought his hand to his mouth, licking away his release and humming happily. "Next time, I think we should do that in the same room."

"I heard there was a rule," Zenyatta hummed dreamily. "That when an agent returns from a mission, they are not required to do any work for at least two days to recover."

"Are you suggesting-"

"Yes, very much so, yes. We should lock ourselves in your room and make like rabbits."

Genji rolled onto his side and snickered. "See, that's why I love you, you have the best ideas." The words rolled off his tongue and into the universe with no shame. No, he decided. He rather liked the way they sounded. "I love you," He said again.

"I know," Zenyatta replied. "And I love you, my darling sparrow. Forever and always."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harmony artwork by [Captain Needs No Sleep](https://twitter.com/SleeplessCap)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to the lovely people at the Genyatta Big Bang for putting this all together. It was a fun, exhausting experience.
> 
> Also, thank you to my wonderful friend and the person who had to listen to me gripe about this more than anyone else, Kep, who managed to keep me in check, as well as the person that gave me every terrible, hilarious idea.
> 
> Finally, thanks to my artists, whom I did this for. You guys were fantastic, especially since I was not always the most on top of things, and I tended to procrastinate more than was healthy. Oops.


End file.
